Of course, we ended up in a cozy restaurant, taking a secluded table for four.
Once they sat down across from each other, I lingered awkwardly beside the table, trying to remember—or more like guess—whether I was allowed to sit or supposed to stand there like furniture until they were done.
"Are you going to sit, or what?" Silus said раздражённо, jerking his chin toward the seat beside him.
"So, Alan," Erika turned to me once they'd placed their order, "tell me—what exactly do you do at the academy?"
"Uh…" I hesitated. "Study?"
She laughed—and looked at me like I was an idiot.
"That's not what I meant. I wanted so badly to get into the academy with Clyde, and I was crushed when I didn't make it. I study somewhere else now. So tell me—what kind of assignments do they give you?" she asked, eyes gleaming with something unpleasant.
I wasn't sure what she was fishing for, so I glanced at Clyde.
"Erika, stop."
"What? The moment I saw him, I knew there was something off. He's too pretty—and way too soft—for the kind of work specials do."
"Ma'am," I said, my patience already wearing thin, "I handle physical strain and energy control well enough to consider myself a future protector."
"I'm not saying you're weak," she said, though she clearly didn't believe it. "But don't you get… interesting assignments?" she pressed.
"I'm sorry," I said, irritation creeping into my voice, "but I don't understand what you want to hear. The tasks I'm given aren't anything special. Half the time they're pointless."
"Oh, Clyde," she sighed dramatically, "what, he's still that innocent? With that face? In my academy there'd already be a line for him."
"Enough, Erika," Clyde said, his voice turning cold. "Alan intends to become a protector—not a paid bedwarmer."
"But you have to admit," she waved him off, "he'd get a lot more out of that. So what's the issue? No one's picked him up, and no one's giving him anything interesting either?"
"Holivan!" Alma knocked on the restaurant window, waving at me. Only then did she notice who I was with. She gave an awkward smile and mimed a phone call.
"Holivan?" Erika's eyes widened. "You're Alan Holivan?"
"Yes, ma'am," I said with a quiet sigh. "First-year special-class student, Alan Holivan. Now that everything's clear, may I step out and make a call?"
"To that girl?" she asked, still staring at me like she couldn't quite believe it. "You know what—bring her in. I want to see her."
"We were about to leave," Clyde cut in.
"Oh no, we're not. I want to check something." She handed him her phone.
On the screen were photos—old ones. Of me. Or rather, of the previous Alan Holivan.
"Completely different person, right? I barely recognized you myself. God, Alan, I never thought you'd turn into such a cute little thing. Go on—call your girl and get back here."
I quickly explained the situation to Alma over the phone. She was surprised, but agreed without hesitation. She'd been out with some upperclassmen, gathering information for her mentor, and was already done.
Alma handled Erika's presence disturbingly well. She ignored the arrogance, stayed polite, even managed to seem friendly. I couldn't help thinking—those years she'd spent surviving hadn't been wasted.
Turns out, Alan had known Erika before. She was four years older, but that hadn't stopped them from getting along—until last summer.
"How could you forget our trip to the theater?" she said wistfully. "You tore that actress apart so badly she ended up crying. You were always fun…" Her voice softened. "What happened to you? It's painful to think of you crawling at the bottom now. Maybe my father could find you a decent doctor? I'd give anything to go back and stop whatever broke you."
"Thank you, ma'am," I said evenly, "but the academy's best physician has already made it clear. My memory—and my former personality—can't be restored."
"Oh, Alan, stop calling me 'ma'am.' You may be a special now, but I still remember our friendship. Just call me Erika."
"Erika Moneki was my friend in the past," I said. "But now—you're Lady Moneki."
"God, that's depressing," she muttered. "Drink. You used to finish a bottle of whiskey and still be sharp enough to tear some lowborn brat apart. And now you can't even handle a second glass of wine?"
So Alan used to drink—and handle it just fine.
In my previous life, I could drink a lot too. So why did this body—and this soul together—react the opposite way?
I silently drained the glass. Erika immediately signaled the waiter to refill it.
Fine. If I got drunk, at least I wouldn't have to sit through this.
"Hey, Alan," Alma called, and I turned to her with a hazy look. "You okay?"
"Fiiine…" I slurred, missing the stem of my glass slightly.
"Lady Moneki, forgive me," Alma said politely, "but I think Alan is already drunk. May I take him back to the academy while he can still walk?"
"Are you serious? He won't make it like that. Clyde, get him a room. I think I'll stay in the city too."
"I'll book three rooms," Clyde said, frowning at me. "And I'll see him there."
"That won't be necessary, Mr. Silus," Alma smiled. "I'll stay with him and take him back in the morning."
"Then I'll book four rooms, if you're staying because of Erika."
"One will be enough," Alma said firmly.
"And still—"
"Oh, for God's sake, Clyde!" Erika snapped. "If you don't want to sleep with me before the wedding, at least don't ruin it for everyone else. The girl wants to stay in Alan's room—let them enjoy themselves."
"I didn't—" Clyde started.
"Thank you, Lady Moneki," Alma said smoothly, stepping toward me. "Up you go, Holivan. Time to sleep."
"Aca…demy… far… can't… make it…"
"Yes, yes, I've got you."
I had zero sense of direction and practically collapsed onto her as we made our way to the front desk and up to the room. Thankfully, the restaurant was attached to the hotel—I didn't even have to step outside.
"Where's Silus?" I asked, swaying as Alma opened the door.
"Busy entertaining his fiancée. Relax—you're off duty."
"Right… fiancée…" I mumbled, collapsing face-first onto the bed.