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The Author’s Paradox

The center of the universe. The undisputed victor. The one who ultimately wins hearts and undoes enemies with a triumphant smile. That is the role of the protagonist. And all in their orbit are merely supporting characters in the epic that is their life. As for me? I was just a writer, whose words seldom echoed beyond the silence of my own mind. And when they did, it was in the form of a novel – my sole outcry in the vastness of literary oblivion. Until the day the thread of my life snapped… and in the blink of an eye, I was reborn. Inside my own work. With clenched fist and resolute soul, I faced the new reality. Reincarnating into one's own story seems promising, right? To be the immortal hero, the aura of invincibility, the inevitable romances. Except no. The plot twisted and I returned not as the hero, but as an extra – an NPC in the affable terminology of gaming. Away from the spotlight, on the fringes of adventures and loves, I am just a figure that completes the backdrop for others to shine. And honestly? What a relief! Why, you might ask, do I not wish to be the chosen one? Simple – protagonists are magnets for mishaps. Living on the edge of calamity? No, thank you. Death and I have already crossed paths; dramatic pretexts can keep their distance. Thus, I summon to the heavens my heartfelt thanks for this second anonymous chance. “Let me enjoy a stable life away from the limelight,” I plead fervently among tears of joy and resigned smiles. Yet, stifle that laughter. Know that these words, uttered in the innocence of a fresh start, would soon prove to be the prelude to an involuntary comedy. Because, it seems, even an extra can find themselves face to face with destiny. And so begins the most unexpected of journeys – one where the smallest of pawns may, somehow, change the game.

Superfabinho · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
64 Chs

The Vacation

(Chloe POV)

There I was, in front of the square mirror that seemed more like a portal to a world where I'm the main star. My black hair was an artistic mess, each strand rebelliously perfect in its disorder. And those purple eyes? They looked like two pieces of a lost galaxy, staring back at me with a sleepy glow. Seriously, if fashion was determined by dark circles and a "just woke up" spirit, I'd be plastered on every magazine cover without even trying.

"Today's the day of the trip, huh…" I commented to my reflection, blowing away the stubborn lock that insisted on tickling my nose. There was something almost magical about getting ready for an adventure, even if it was just me talking to myself while trying to look less like a sleepy panda.

Standing still and staring at myself was kind of a hobby, not out of narcissism — okay, maybe a little — but more about getting lost in thoughts. My mind was a mix of dramatic teen series with a touch of slapstick comedy. Shaking my head, I decided it was time to become the protagonist I know I am. "Let's go, Chloe, the show must go on. And the audience is waiting."

Ah, six in the morning… Who was the genius who decided this was an acceptable time to wake up? But then again, "vacation, baby"! A whole thirty days of freedom to be whoever I want, do whatever I feel like. And of course, zero responsibilities.

The last few months have taught me that life has a peculiar way of throwing smoke grenades at your expectations, just to see how you dance in the fog. When I entered the Pentagon Academy, I had a plan. Oh yes, a brilliant plan: to dive headfirst into academic life, train until my muscles begged for mercy, form alliances that seemed straight out of a spy movie, and recruit the most promising prodigies. The greatest danger, I thought, would be the scathing look from Professor Lizy if I dared to be late for her class.

But then, like a script rejected for being too absurd, demons decided to do a flash mob in the schoolyard, and villains signed up for the drama club. The stage was set for chaos that not even the most creative writer could conceive. And there we were: me, Sam, Ellie, Diana, and Blake, improvising defenses as if we were in a cooking competition where the ingredients are explosives and the recipe, an enigma.

I lost someone in the midst of that mess. Someone who, for some reason, managed to stand out in a world where superpowers are the breakfast of champions. It wasn't just his worldview, as unique as it was intriguing, but the veil of mystery that enveloped him like a cloak. He was captivating, and now, a memory.

Reflecting on this, I followed the morning routine like a robot programmed for normalcy. Shower taken, the steam from the shower mixing with my thoughts, an attempt to wash away the memories along with the soap. But the water, no matter how hot, couldn't dissolve the feeling of fatigue, nor erase the invisible scars left by recent events.

As the water ran, each drop seemed to ask: "What comes next?" The answer, as uncertain as the outcome of a dice roll by trembling hands, was something I still needed to discover.

All we desire now is a glimpse of peace. A break from the relentless action, a hiatus in the incessant wave of chaos that has become our day-to-day. The longing for a tranquil month is palpable, almost tangible in the air, as if we could touch it if we reached out. A truce from the confrontations that have become routine.

If my father had painted a more realistic portrait of a hero's life, perhaps I would have hesitated before embarking on this journey. "Being a hero is cool," he would say, but he forgot to mention the days of exhaustive training, the sleepless nights, and the moments of pure terror facing demons and villains that seem straight out of a nightmare. Oh, if he had warned me, maybe I would have chosen a different path.

With a sigh, I turned off the shower, the sound of the water ceasing like applause at the end of a dramatic act. "Time to face the world again," I thought, wrapping a towel around myself.

I opted for a casual and comfortable look, perfect for the Caribbean climate that awaited us. A simple white shirt, elegant in its own way, paired with a pair of short black shorts, ideal for the heat. On my feet, flip-flops — the definition of relaxation and ease — and, not forgetting the final touch, a straw hat. A shield against the relentless sun that would surely grace us with its presence.

Despite the cloudy sky and the forecast of rain here, the magic of teleportation would take us straight to a postcard scene, where the sun shines tirelessly and the sea invites us to temporarily forget our daily battles. The anticipation of stepping on the warm sand, feeling the salty breeze caress my face, and letting the worries be carried away by the waves was almost as invigorating as the idea of an entire night's sleep without interruptions.

As I put the final touches on my suitcase (which, by the way, was practically packing itself so eager for the trip), a mischievous smile appeared. "Vacation!" That indeed is a battle cry for us, young heroes in training who just want to swap capes and armor for beach towels and sunglasses.

---

Dragging my suitcase down the hallway, which insisted on making more noise than a furious vacuum cleaner, I had one of those "ah, right" moments about how my life turned into this improbable script. Six months ago, if someone had told me, "Hey, Chloe, your next vacation will be with a bizarre mix of friends that seems straight out of a comedy of errors," I probably would have recommended less soap opera and more fresh air to that person.

But look where life has brought me. On my way to Alcatéia Island with a crew that resembles the cast of a reality show no one asked for, but everyone would watch. There's Ellie, who tries to joke even with shadows and is a few screws short of a full set; a "princess" who must think we're still in the 19th century; Blake, who decided to adopt the cyborg-chic look; and "Mr. Perfect," who honestly makes us wonder if we accidentally fell into a Disney movie.

And as I maneuvered the rebellious suitcase to the exit, I thought: Alcatéia, this little piece of paradise (or madness, depending on how you look at it), better be ready. Because, honestly, wherever we go, the drama (and problems) follow.

"If there's one thing I can guarantee, it's that we won't go unnoticed," I said out loud, to no one in particular. I bet the island has never seen a group so… so us. And you know what? Bring on the mess. Because, in the end, it's these crazy stories, these moments of pure "what is happening?" that make it all worthwhile.

With the mindset of someone about to embark on the greatest adventure of their life (at least until the next one), I grabbed my suitcase — still making more noise than an entire band — and headed off to meet the rest of the group. "Well, here we go, they must be waiting for me…"

---

At the exit of the first-year dormitory, an architectural spectacle that resembled the entrance to a modern castle (or, let's be honest, a film set waiting for its next teenage drama scene), Diana was there, a vision of tranquility with her blonde hair loose in the wind and blue eyes that seemed to capture the essence of the sky on a clear day. Dressed casually, with a simplicity that screamed "I'm ready for anything, as long as it's fashionable."

Beside her, Ellie, whose orange-red hair formed a vibrant cascade that seemed to have a life of its own, dedicated her attention to her cellphone as if the device contained the secrets of the universe. Dressed in a style that said "I'm casual, but stylish," with a white shirt that had seen better days and denim shorts that told stories of past summers. On her feet, a pair of sneakers, probably chosen for a mix of comfort and the imminent possibility of having to run from something… or someone.

"Hey, Diana, did you see this news?" Ellie, in a move so dramatic it deserved a soundtrack, practically threw her cellphone at Diana's nose. "Look, the president of the United States died."

"Oh yes, I saw that news." Diana dodged the sudden attack of information with the grace of a dancer, although inside she was more like "isn't there a spoiler filter for real life?"

Ellie, unable to detect irony even if it came with an instruction manual, blinked in surprise. "Isn't it crazy? Like, who's going to take care of the country now? The vice president? The secretary? The president's dog?"

Diana let out a laugh, a sound that danced in the air as lightly as a falling leaf. "Well, I hope it's the dog. At least the press conferences would be more adorable."

Ellie, with her ability to find humor even in the darkest shadows, couldn't help but release a few laughs, a sound that cut through the tension in the air like a sharp knife. "And the White House, in all its pomp, dropped the bomb: they accused some High Court of being the big villain behind everything," she said, her eyes glued to the bright screen of her cellphone while her fingers slid with the agility of a pianist.

Diana, always with that air of someone who observes the world from a slightly different viewpoint, kept her focus on the entrance, as if she expected the arrival of some 18th-century spy. "Oh yes, I stumbled upon that story too. It seems to have become the talk of the town," she replied, her voice calm, but her mind, who knows, spinning in a thousand and one directions.

Ellie, immersed in her reading, threw out another pearl of information: "They say this High Court is like the elite of villains. Old, dangerous, and with a trail of deaths in their resume that would make any horror movie envious."

At that point, Diana froze, her usual flow of words drying up faster than water in the desert. Her silence was a loud sound, almost palpable, leaving in the air the question: "What went through your head now?"

Ellie, noticing the abrupt change in the atmosphere, raised an eyebrow towards Diana, a gesture that said "Are you okay?" without needing words. Curiosity danced in her eyes, mixed with a hint of concern. "Did she become uncomfortable with this topic?" Ellie wondered internally, a silent confusion forming as she tried to decipher Diana's sudden introspection.

The conversation, which started light and full of humor, now hovered over uncertain ground. Ellie, however, was not one to leave a mystery unsolved. "Hey, Di, if something's going on, you know you can talk to me, right?"

"Ellie," Diana began, injecting more suspense into the conversation than a season finale of any series you swore you'd stop binge-watching. "I'm good, but… How about we change the subject? We're supposed to be on vacation, you know?"

"Uh-huh," Ellie responded, her fingers gliding over the cellphone screen as if she were practicing for the Feed Scrolling Olympics. Suddenly, she froze, her eyes widening so much that you could almost see the future — or at least, the glow of the next viral post. With all the drama of a divine revelation (or an unwanted series spoiler), she thrust the cellphone in Diana's face: "Check out this kitten playing the piano!"

Diana, making an evasive move worthy of a ninja, leaned back, only to be captured by the video. "Uh, talented cat. He's playing… What's it again?" she questioned, genuinely impressed.

"Of course, he's nailing 'Chopsticks' — or at least that's what the caption says," Ellie finished, turning a simple cat video into a profound musical analysis. "Maybe he'll be the next classical music sensation, moving on to 'Für Elise' as soon as he masters his skills."

In a scene worthy of a dramatic pause in a comedy movie, Chloe emerged from the shadows of the dormitory with all the charisma of a rock star… if rock stars wore comfortable clothes for a vacation trip and carried suitcases instead of guitars. Her purple eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief, standing out amidst her laid-back look, as if about to cast spells or, at the very least, sharp sarcasm.

Seeing Diana and Ellie practically fused to the cellphone in a kind of digital trance, Chloe didn't miss the chance: "Look, that cellphone is devouring the last neurons Ellie had. If you keep this up, Diana, you're going to end up in the same boat."

The duo hypnotized by the screen's glow was pulled back to reality by surprise, staring at Chloe as if seeing a ghost or, perhaps, someone interrupting their favorite soap opera. "Don't be annoying, Chloe. We're about to discover the secret to happiness here," Ellie grumbled, with defensive dignity, stowing away the cellphone as if hiding a treasure.

"Hmm, let me guess… A cat playing the piano?" Chloe ventured in the dark, her intuition honed by years of surfing the internet more than she should. Ellie's expression, a mix of surprise and involuntary admiration, was all Chloe needed to let out a victorious laugh and move closer.

"Diana, always a pleasure," Chloe greeted with a theatrical bow, eliciting a weary nod from Diana, who seemed more ready for a spiritual retreat than the start of a vacation. "So, today's the big day, huh? My official debut at the beach. I hope you're prepared to save my life if I drown in the shallow end."

The conversation between friends took an unexpectedly educational turn, courtesy of the ever-surprising Ellie. "Huh? Is it your first time at a beach?" Ellie's eyes widened as if Chloe had revealed she had never tasted chocolate or seen a sunset.

"Yes, and to be honest, I'm a bit apprehensive. The sea… it seems so vast and mysterious," Chloe confessed, her voice carrying a hint of trepidation in the face of the blue expanse that awaited her.

"Hmm," Ellie struck a pose of a private detective, or someone who had watched too many documentaries on TV. "I think you have Claustrophobia." Her fingers touched her chin, in a gesture typical of someone who believes they've unraveled a great mystery.

"It's thalassophobia," Diana corrected promptly, with the patience of a teacher correcting a well-meaning but slightly misinformed student.

"Ah, of course. Thalassophobia, the fear of the sea," Ellie continued, making the correction as if such a change in terms did not alter the depth of her psychological analysis at all. Chloe, in turn, let out a sigh that carried more resignation than air.

"Ellie, it's my first time going to the beach. It's normal to feel a bit apprehensive, right? It's not like I have a paralyzing fear of the sea," Chloe tried to explain, in a tone that suggested she was trying to convince herself more than Ellie. It was like trying to explain quantum physics to a dog — although, in a parallel universe, a cat might understand.

Ellie, with her unwavering optimism, shrugged as if she accepted Chloe's logic but still held onto her own theories. "Well, it doesn't matter. We're going to turn your first time into an epic adventure. And if something goes wrong, we can always blame the aliens or a government conspiracy. Because, of course, it's always that," Ellie concluded, delivering a conspiratorial smile that suggested half a dozen outlandish plans already forming in her mind.

Diana just shook her head, an amused smile on her lips.

"Okay, let's go find Sam now and the rest of our classmates, because today, Class A-1 is heading to the beach!" Ellie shouted, more to herself than to anyone else, raising her hand in a victory gesture as if she could already feel the sea breeze. Her excitement was so palpable that for a moment Diana and Chloe wondered if she would start handing out autographs in anticipation of the trip's success.

Chloe and Diana exchanged a complicit look, the kind that says "here we go" without needing words.

With the determination of a small army about to embark on a grand expedition, the trio advanced through the academy campus, ready to gather the rest of Class A-1. The atmosphere was festive, a mix of anxiety and excitement hung in the air, seasoned with the sweet expectation of days of rest, sun, and, of course, more rest.