"That’s so on brand for you," Maya laughed. "You finally get a bestie and she’s violent."
"And mythical," Isabella added with a small smile.
The girls giggled again, sipping their drinks and munching on fruit skewers. Isabella leaned back and let the sun hit her face, but even the warmth didn’t shake the strange emptiness growing in her chest.
Everything was perfect. It always had been.
And that was the problem.
This garden, her friends, the award show she was getting ready for tonight—it was all a dream co true. Her life was pristine, curated. Controlled. Just like her friends, sitting across from her in coordinated outfits, faces airbrushed and filtered even in real life.
But in the beast world?
She had to fight. She had to think. She had to run for her life one night, and then figure out how to cook soup over a fire the next. She made real friends. She taught people things. She complained to Bubu every day, and Bubu always argued back, but then listened anyway. (Not really though)
Over there, she mattered. Here... she perford.
"You okay?" Bianca asked suddenly.
Bella looked over. "What? Yeah, of course."
"You got quiet."
"Just thinking about what outfit to wear for the show tonight."
"Sothing sparkly, obviously," Maya said. "You’re nominated for Best Actress, aren’t you?"
"Yup," Bella said with a tight smile.
More laughter. More sipping. More flawless conversation.
But none of them really knew her. Not like Opehlia did, who cried too much and always asked questions. Or Shelia, who genuinely thought she could trap smoke in a jar. Or Luca, who pretended not to care but never let her walk alone in the forest. Or—
She stopped herself.
They weren’t here. This wasn’t there.
She was back now.
Her phone buzzed on the table. A ssage from the stylist confirming her fittings. Then another from the makeup artist. Then a third from the event organizer reminding her to "arrive red-carpet ready with hair done and glam locked by 6 PM."
Bianca glanced at her phone and groaned. "Ugh, I have to head to that photoshoot for the new makeup line. It’s in, like, twenty minutes."
Maya stood too. "Yeah, sa. I’ve got that collab with Lora Lee—we’re doing a soft launch today."
Bella nodded, pushing her sunglasses up into her hair. "Of course. You guys go."
"You sure you’re okay?" Bianca asked again, pausing to look at her.
"I’m good. Just trying to stay grounded, you know?" Bella smiled, hiding everything else behind it. "Beastworld withdrawal."
Bianca laughed, gave her a hug that slled like perfu and expensive shampoo, and then they were gone. Just like that. One mont laughter, the next—silence.
Bella sat back down, alone in the perfect garden, and picked up her mimosa again. She took a slow sip.
But even with all this—luxury, peace, silence—her mind was far away.
She glanced at her phone screen, now dark and still on the table. A tiny smudge marked the corner. No matter how many tis she wiped it, it never ca off. A scratch? Maybe. Or maybe it had been there before and she’d just never noticed.
Kind of like this life.
Everything here was clean and polished. Perfect, on paper. But now, after everything... it felt too quiet. Too effortless.
In the other world, she had burnt her hand trying to cook over a fire. She’d tripped in mud, scread at bugs, argued with a talking animal, and once cried because she thought she lost her shoes. She’d been dramatic. Real. Herself.
Here?
She smiled at the right ti. Nodded, laughed, glowed on cue.
Her life here was flawless.
But over there, it had aning.
And that scared her more than anything else.
It had been a few hours, and Isabella now stood in front of her grand mirror in the hotel room as her designer helped her tighten her corset.
The room was a frenzy of activity—stylists flitting about, makeup artists fixing last-minute touches, and a team of assistants bustling with final preparations.
The soft click of caras echoed as the crew captured every mont for the live stream.
Isabella adjusted her posture, feeling the cool press of the corset against her ribs.
It was a masterpiece—sleek black silk, embroidered with gold accents that shimred in the light. It was a statent piece.
"You’re almost there, darling," her designer, Jas, said with a focused smile.
His hands moved quickly, tightening the laces, his fingers brushing lightly against her skin.
"This will take your breath away. We just need it perfect."
She nodded, her eyes catching her reflection as the last layer of makeup settled into place.
The corset squeezed her waist, making her silhouette even more dramatic. The pressure, though intense, felt right—exactly how she wanted it.
Isabella inhaled deeply, lifting her chin. "How does it look?" she asked, her voice breathless, almost like a challenge.
Jas stepped back, hands on his hips. "Stunning. You’re going to steal the show tonight."
She smiled, a quick flash of excitent in her eyes. "Then let’s make it count."
The stylist behind her gave a quick nod, adjusting the strap of her gown as the rest of the team shifted around, tightening up the look.
Isabella’s breath ca quicker now, the corset restricting her, the dress fitting her perfectly, her every movent becoming more fluid.
The assistant reached forward to adjust her hair, brushing a lock behind her ear as she kept her gaze locked on her reflection.
"Almost ready for the red carpet?" she asked softly, running a final brush through Isabella’s hair.
Isabella let out a soft hum, the tension in her body growing. "Almost... don’t stop, just a little more... harder, yes, that’s it..."
Her voice ca out in a murmur, the words slipping as she adjusted her position, the corset pulling tighter.
Jas raised an eyebrow, pausing mid-lace. "You okay, darling?" His voice was laced with concern, though he couldn’t help but admire how perfectly the gown hugged her.
Isabella didn’t respond right away. Her eyes were locked on the mirror, she had almost forgotten how good she always looked.
If fate decideds to play with her and send her back to that beast world, she was definitely creating a mirror there.
She wasn’t thinking about the corset anymore. The words escaped her, a reminder of all the effort and the power she’d built.
Jas, unaware, nodded approvingly. "There we go. Perfect."
Isabella adjusted the gown one last ti, taking a final look at herself in the mirror.
Her lips parted slightly as she marveled at the person before her—the embodint of grace, power, and elegance. Tonight, she’d shine.
She straightened her back. "Let’s go."
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