Life After Death by Ice Cream

My heart pounded as the screen flickered in front of me, the words burning into my brain:

[Favorability -5 with Elara]

Elara? That was the name of the heroine. The name I had dreaded to hear since the moment I realized I was stuck in this twisted story. I glanced around the room, but no one else seemed to notice the bright red text hanging in midair. It was just me and my very inconvenient, very selective system that only seemed to pop up when it felt like ruining my day.

I had seen hundreds of people today servants, guards, random folks on the street but not once had this ridiculous screen reacted to anyone. No pop-ups, no updates, no nothing.

It was like the system had been on vacation until now, waiting for the perfect moment to drop a bombshell on me. And now, staring at the numbers, it was crystal clear: this woman was Elara, the one and only heroine of this cursed world.

Why did she hate me already? We had never met. I had done nothing to her, not today, not ever. I was innocent this time, at least! I pressed my lips together, trying to think. This didn't make sense.

"System, show yourself," I whispered under my breath, feeling more than a little ridiculous. I must have looked like a lunatic talking to thin air.

Nothing happened. The screen just blinked out, and I was left staring at the empty space it had occupied, my irritation bubbling up to dangerous levels.

"System, I said show up. Now."

Silence. Not even a faint flicker.

"Come on, you stupid piece of—" I clenched my fists, trying not to scream in the middle of a fancy restaurant filled with people who definitely didn't need to witness my meltdown. Mira glanced at me, eyebrows raised, clearly sensing something was wrong.

I tried to compose myself, putting on a forced smile. "Nothing, just... thinking out loud."

Mira didn't seem convinced but nodded anyway, turning her attention back to her menu. Great. Not only was I failing at being incognito, but I was also failing at keeping my sanity in check.

I tried again, mentally shouting at the system. System, appear. Answer me, you lousy... good-for-nothing... malfunctioning glitch of a—

Nothing. Not a single response. I wanted to scream.

Fine, be that way, I thought, gritting my teeth. If I could punch this system in the face, I would. I mean, why now? Why here? And of all people, why did Elara hate me already? Did she just see me and think, "Oh look, that's Amara, public enemy number one"? I hadn't even had time to do anything villainous yet! I was still getting used to breathing in this new world without hyperventilating every five seconds.

"System, you useless pile of garbage. I swear, if you don't show up right now, I'm going to—"

"Amara?" Mira's voice broke through my tirade, snapping me back to reality. She was looking at me with genuine concern now, her brow furrowed. "Are you alright? You've been... mumbling."

"I'm fine!" I snapped, louder than intended. Mira flinched, and I immediately regretted it. "Sorry, sorry. I'm just... tired," I mumbled, rubbing my temples. I needed to get a grip before I started shouting at the ceiling.

Mira nodded slowly, still watching me with that worried look. "Maybe we should get back to the manor after this. You need rest," she suggested, her tone gentle, almost too gentle, like she was afraid I'd break apart any second. Maybe she wasn't too far off.

"Yeah, maybe," I muttered, barely paying attention. I snuck another glance at Elara, who was now seated downstairs, surrounded by people who were clearly hanging on her every word. She was smiling, laughing even, but there was something sharp in her eyes every time they flicked up in my direction.

Did she sense something? Did she know who I was? That I was the villain of her story? Or was I just overthinking this entire thing because my brain couldn't handle the idea that someone could hate me without even knowing me?

The irony wasn't lost on me. This was karma, wasn't it? How many times had Amara, the real one, looked at someone with disdain just because they didn't fit her perfect little world? And now here I was, on the receiving end of that judgment, and it stung in a way I hadn't expected.

Mira's voice brought me back to the present. "Amara, should we order something? Or we could leave now if you're not feeling up to it."

I blinked, realizing I hadn't even touched the menu again. My appetite was gone, replaced by a swirling mix of frustration and dread. "Let's just go," I said, standing up abruptly. "I'm not hungry anymore."

Mira seemed relieved. She quickly paid the server because apparently, she was in charge of the funds now, too and we made our way out of the restaurant. I couldn't help but glance back one last time.

Elara didn't look up, but somehow I knew she was aware of me. There was no mistaking that tension in the air, like a storm brewing just beneath the surface.

The walk back to the manor was quiet, save for the occasional sound of Mira clearing her throat as if she wanted to say something but thought better of it. I appreciated the silence. It gave me time to think, though thinking was the last thing I wanted to do.

Why did Elara hate me already? I racked my brain for any possible answer, but it didn't add up. Sure, Amara had a reputation for being the worst, but no one here should know that yet.

I hadn't done anything well, not in this life anyway. Was it just some weird heroine intuition? Did she smell the villainy on me like some kind of magical scent? Was I leaking 'bad guy' energy all over the place?

What's her problem? I thought bitterly. She's the heroine; she's supposed to be all sunshine and forgiveness, not throwing hate around like confetti.

But then again, maybe the game wasn't playing by the usual rules. I was supposed to be dead, after all. The whole story was already off the rails.

Back at the manor, the familiar oppressive atmosphere settled around me like a heavy cloak. I trudged up the stairs to my room, Mira trailing behind at a respectful distance. I was too tired to care about decorum or appearances anymore.

The moment I reached my room, I collapsed onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling that seemed to press down on me with every breath.

Mira stood at the door, hesitating. "Is there anything I can do for you, Madame?"

"No. I'm fine," I said, though we both knew it was a lie. Mira nodded, closing the door quietly behind her, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I lay there, my mind racing. I had bigger problems to deal with than Elara's inexplicable hatred, but I couldn't let it go. What if this was just the beginning? What if every interaction with her was going to be like this, a preordained disaster?

Great, just great, I thought, sinking deeper into the plush mattress. I'm stuck in this stupid world, the heroine hates me, the system won't work, and I'm talking to myself like a madwoman.

I pulled the covers over my head, blocking out the world. The day had been exhausting, not just physically but mentally. It was like every step I took was another reminder that this wasn't my life, that I was playing a part I didn't want.

"Why does she hate me already?" I whispered into the darkness, as if the silence would offer an answer. But of course, it didn't. I was on my own, and all I could do was wait for the next curveball this twisted game would throw at me.

As I drifted off to sleep, one thought lingered, nagging at the back of my mind: What if this was only the beginning?