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My Throat

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"You're not Yuridia."


"And you're not Ricardo." Her expression from earlier completely changed. She no longer held the bubbly demeanor but a mocking tone. "Ricardo doesn't look like a toad."


Wow, ouch. Ricardo was described as good-looking, beautiful even. I never held myself as particularly stunning, but I wasn't ugly. Maybe even a little handsome.

Pushing this comment aside, I said, "So you're from….you know," I couldn't think of what to call it. Earth? Home? "The 'real' world, right?" Yes, that world was no home. It was simply "reality". My boring, poor reality. "Earth?"


"Yeah, the 'real world.'"


"Do you have any idea as to why we're here?"


"Nope. Not a clue." She took a bite out of one of the cookies placed on the table earlier. "Ohmm, my cooks really are good."


"You don't seem to really care."


"I see you have eyes." Was it just me, or did she seem a little crazy?


"Why? Don't you want to go back?"


She scoffed, as if the very idea of it was ridiculous. ""Back? Back to what? I don't have anything to go back to." Now that I thought about it, my situation was similar. What point was there in going back? "The way I see it, this is a blessing." A blessing. I had riches, great food, and a pretty comfortable life here. Much more than I could say about the "real" world. Working unreasonable overtime to be paid only enough to not starve in the streets. A one bedroom apartment and convenience store-bought meals. Right then my illusion of going back crumbled. Why did I even want to go back? There really was no reason to.


However, there was still one problem that would not allow me to live a comfortable life.


"You know this is the world out of the-"


"–the romance novel Saving The Duke. Yes, I'm more than aware."


"I'm Ricardo. Won't I die?"


"That's your problem." 


She was annoying, yet strangely reasonable. She was right now immersed in the role of the main character. If things went the way of the novel's plot then she would end up with an attractive husband and endless amounts of money. She would have a happy ending. I, on the other hand, would be buried six feet under.


"What if I refuse to live out my role as Ricardo?"


"You'll still die."


"How can you be so sure?"


"You remember how in the beginning of the novel to set up some of their relationship, Yuridia gets hurt and Yoo Jonghyuk helps bandage her?" She rolled up her sleeve, revealing an ugly burn mark. "I arrived last week and tried avoiding hot things, sharp things– anything that would in any way hurt me. It happened differently than originally, but it still happened." She tsked and mutterd under her breath, "Damn clichés." 


"Wait, so, what you're saying is that…"


"There is a fate following the plot that will happen and will be completed. It's that stupid thing where it doesn't matter what you do, whatever was supposed to happen will happen."


"Oh shit." Well, that put me in quite the pickle. "But I don't want to die."


"And I don't want to marry Yoo Jonghyuk." She said, "But fate seems to have other plans."


Her resignation to the future was annoying. In this moment I decided that all of her was annoying. She didn't want to.marry him, I didn't want to die. But she had to marry and I had to die. "So you're just going to give up?"


"Look. My life back 'there' was a struggle. Every. Freaking. Day." Her carefree air that previously bothered me greatly was now replaced with seriousness as her dark eyes pierced me across the low table. "I have peace in this life. A few more hardships from the plot and in the end I'll get peace. And I'm not about to get up from my goose-feather bed to fight fucking fate or destiny or whatever you call it." 


I was the major losing party in this situation. It felt like back in the office when I'd have to follow unreasonable conditions at my workplace because the rent wouldn't pay itself and the food wouldn't magically appear on the fridge.


I opened my mouth to counter her. I couldn't really think of anything reasonable to say that would debunk get argument, though. 


"I won't follow fate. I don't care if that ends up screwing yours up." 


Her eyes narrowed, her beauty mark rising up. "Then I guess that'll make us enemies."


"I guess." With that final statement, I stood up, straightened my clothes, and exited the room.