Page 9 of Not Like The Other Girls

“It is even better than yours, softer and brighter. Thanks to my top-notch skin care routine that only wealth and privilege can buy.”

“Of course.”

Every sighs at her idiocy. “Actually, I’m just twenty-five,” he clarifies.

CHAPTER 4: BITCH, I CAN'T FLY

Let us start this chapter by describing a single piece of leaf.

Brace yourself for my horrid-ass satire-prose skills.

The immensely interesting foliage, a burnt mahogany-brown color with a light sepia hue, slowly falls down from the canopy of a tall, towering tree, blown by soft wisps of wind. It gently flows down in the air, lower and lower, closer and closer to the dusty earth. The redheaded young woman raises her hand, relaxing the moment the leaf lands on her palm. She looks closely, studying every single one of the thin, crooked lines webbing it. She stares at them dumbly, as if they are her waning lifeline.

What.

Today, the not-so-manic pixie girl heroine, in her trademark oversized grey hoodie and slutty red bra and nothing else, is taking a morning stroll in the park while waiting for her strong, stern billionaire CEO boyfriend to take her on a date. And since she is such a petite, fragile girl, she slips on that same mahogany-colored leaf, loses her balance, and falls.

Good thing there isn’t any passerby, or she would have flashed them.

Fuck.

Actually, she falls so fast she doesn’t even get the chance to scream ‘fuck’.

But just before she cracks her head open in half like a fucking coconut, strong, muscular arms, popping with veins, pull her up, cradling her. Now safe, Lily Linnet Laundrygirl regains consciousness, her eyes fluttering open to the pissed-off face of the one and only Every Darkindeep Ebonyngrey Wolfmane.

Welp.

She blinks again, not believing the sight before her. “Aw, shit, man. When did you get here? I didn’t even hear your posh limousine car.”

“Just earlier,” he replies, his voice gruff, “by the power of romance-book-hero magic.”

“Cool,” Lily-girl deadpans. “And why are you in that horrid lizard mask? You look worse than the ones on the walls of my house.”

Every the Unwise frowns, raising a hand to touch the green reptilian mask on his face. He runs his fingertips over the tiny, ultra-realistic scales that are supposed to resemble those of a prehistoric dinosaur. At least the Halloween costume shopkeeper assured him that it did, not that the young man had ever seen a live dinosaur.

A fucking dinosaur, man.

Not a common wall lizard or a Tokay lizard or perhaps a Texas horned lizard like what his girl probably assumes.

And looks like the author’s geekiness on the topic of lizards is showing.

“It’s actually a dinosaur mask,” he says, “I heard it is all the hype these days. Like the ghoul-masked men and masked robots.”

“Wait, people find masked robots hot? As in Gundam and the Masked Riders?”

“Uh, yes. Haven’t you heard?”

“No, I don’t really follow trends. I didn’t think you’d need another reminder, but hey, I’m not like the other girls.” Lily bats her eyelashes, acting all shy now for no reason.



She is then brought by her man to a high-rise skyscraper, so tall that the highest floor is lost in a magical haze of green fog, so slim it looks not unlike an oversized needle randomly pinned by a giant onto the barren wastelands. It is the only one in this poverty-stricken small town, actually, owned by none other than Every, the evil billionaire bitch.

He even lives in a penthouse on the top floor of it, because of course he does.

“Now tell me, buddy, what this surprise of yours is,” she mutters once they reach the top of the two-hundred-thousand-twenty-two-meter-high skyscraper. They are now standing in a thick olive-colored fog that turns out to be from none other than a spoiled sandwich and a couple of rotten eggs someone must have left ages ago.

“We’re gonna ride that today,” Every gestures towards shapes of what seemingly is a great, dark shadow of doom.