Stuck in the Novel of Wolves and Vampires⁠

3. THE RINGMASTER

I am Elena. An orphan girl who lived on her own, grew up in an orphanage, and is now trapped inside Mireya’s body. Back when I was just Elena, I had no one. No family. No mother, no father. I was a girl who had to fight through life even when I didn't want to. And now, despite never wishing to borrow someone else's life, I was stuck in the body of a girl who had completely given up on fighting.

If I could save her, I would save myself. But we didn't belong to the same world. I came from a reality filled with ordinary humans, whereas Mireya lived in a world ruled by vampires and werewolves. The original Mireya had been completely oblivious to their supernatural existence, but since I had read the book, I knew every single one of their secrets.

I knew about the school's two popular, dangerous rival bad boys. Both were fully aware of their true identities, but both acted under the strict rule that no one else must ever find out.

I snapped out of my thoughts and glanced up at Mireya’s so-called family. Noticing the baffled stares they were throwing my way, I narrowed my eyes. "What's the problem?" I asked.

"You never used to like dressing like that," Mireya’s father noted, his voice remarkably warm.

I paused for a second, looking down at my clothes. My school skirt sat neatly above my knees, and I had done up my shirt properly. My hair cascaded loosely over my shoulders, and I had put on a few of Mireya's rather tacky earrings and necklaces. Our tastes in fashion were completely, hilariously opposite!

"You didn't wear your thick tights either," my stepsister, Serena, piped up. "Did you forget your legs are ugly?"

"What kind of a sentence is that, Serena?" Mireya’s father’s voice suddenly boomed, catching her off guard. A smug smirk tugged at the corner of my lips. It was glaringly obvious that no one usually defended Mireya in front of him, so this was a shock to her system.

Annoyed by the sudden reprimand, Serena slammed her fork down onto the table. Her mother immediately jumped in to mask her daughter's true colors. "Honey, Mireya cried so much because of that before. Serena only said it because she didn't want her to get upset again..." She quickly shifted her gaze toward me, her eyes tight. "Mireya prefers cute clothes, you know. She always wore clothes with animal cartoons on them. Even at school. Even her tights had cartoon prints on them."

Ah! Of course! It suddenly clicked.

In the book, Mireya had been forced to wear those humiliating tights; otherwise, the bullies threatened to cut her hair off. She only wore them out of sheer terror, and the two demons sitting at this table knew it perfectly well.

"I’m grown up now. Throw those tights away," I said smoothly, leaning back against my chair with absolute ease. "I'm going to reinvent my entire wardrobe. All my current clothes are completely worn out." My eyes drifted over to Serena, locking onto her. "Meanwhile, Serena’s clothes are always high-quality and brand new..." I let my voice drop, lowering my head to look appropriately miserable.

"Sweetheart, I gave your mother money just last week to refresh your wardrobe. You told her you didn't want it," my father said, his eyes clouded with confusion. He was clearly affected by my display of sadness; it was written all over his face.

"Nobody ever gave me any money, Dad," I whispered, keeping my voice small while casting a staged, terrified glance at my stepmother.

My father caught the look instantly and whirled around to face his wife. "What is the meaning of this?" he demanded.

Oh, Mireya! You actually had a father who loved you! Why on earth were you so terrified of these two?

"Mireya broke a window at school," the stepmother blurted out defensively. That part was actually true; the bullies had hidden her clothes, threatening to leave her naked if she didn't break that window. "She begged me not to tell you, Dad. So, I used that money to pay for the damages."

"Is that true, Mireya?" my father asked, his entire focus shifting back to me. Wow, he really did care. It made no sense—if he wasn't biased against her, why had she been left to suffer this torment in silence?

"Yes, Daddy. I’m sorry. Please don't be mad at Mom. She only kept it a secret because I begged her to," I said, watching my stepmother's face light up with a self-satisfied smirk. "But... if you could give me some allowance, I'd really love to go shopping after school to get some proper clothes."

The stepmother's smirk instantly vanished. This was exactly why everyone in the novel claimed Mireya's breath smelled like she was starving—because she was being starved.

My father whipped out his wallet, pulled out a credit card, and handed it to me with a fond smile. "Buy whatever clothes you want, sweetheart." He then turned to Serena. "Go with her, Serena. Pick up a few things for yourself as well." He was clearly trying to ensure Serena didn't feel left out.

"Sure, Dad," Serena replied, a deeply strained, fake smile plastered across her face.

Once I finished my breakfast, I stood up. My stepmother reached out, taking my hand and gently patting it. My eyes briefly flicked to Mireya’s father—who, for all intents and purposes, was my father now. He was smiling warmly, completely blind to this woman's twisted acting.

"You ate enough to fill your stomach, right, sweetie?" she asked, her sickeningly sweet tone making my stomach churn.

"Yes, Mommy," I replied, patting her hand back with equal affection. My father missed it, but I didn't—I saw the absolute bewilderment flash deep within my stepmother's eyes. She didn't understand. She was used to seeing timid, terrified eyes. But the soul standing in front of her didn't belong to Mireya anymore. It belonged to Elena, a girl who wouldn't bow down even if she was locked away in a freezing orphanage cellar.

"Could you make chicken and pasta for dinner tonight? I've been craving it for a few days."

"But you don't even like chicken, sweetheart," my father chimed in, a puzzled note in his voice.

What? But in one of the chapters of the book, Mireya explicitly mentioned how much she loved chicken.

My eyes darted to my stepmother for a split second. Had this woman forced her to lie about not liking chicken just so she wouldn't have to share the food she cooked?

"I do love it, Dad. I just grew cold to it for a while, but now I love it again." I turned back to my 'dear mother' and planted a swift kiss on her cheek. "See you tonight, Mommy." She offered a rigid, trembling smile in return. I then walked over to my father and kissed his cheek as well. "Goodbye, Daddy."