I pushed the Thai food containers around on the counter. The plastic spoons that came with the order looked cheap, so I grabbed actual silverware from the drawer. Plates too. Nobody looks at a person who puts takeout on real plates and says, "This guy doesn't have his shit together."
Mera's singing echoed from the bathroom, some pop song I didn't recognize. Her voice wasn't bad. A little pitchy on the high notes, but confident. Like she didn't care who heard.
"YOU SAID YOU LOVED ME BUT YOU LIED..."
I smiled despite myself. Twenty-four hours ago I was panicking about a death timer.
Now I had a red-skinned devil girl in my shower washing my cum off her thighs while she belted Taylor Swift.
I opened my phone and pulled up the hero rankings. If I was going to replace Nolan as protagonist, I needed to understand what that actually meant beyond "getting the girl."
The novel was called My Pure Love Hero Diary, not My Pure Love Gets Laid Diary. The hero part mattered.
