CHAPTER THREE (continued): The One They Chose She Wasn’t in the Script
1226 Words
“No,” Lila said again.
But it didn’t sound strong this time.
It sounded small.
Like her voice didn’t belong in the room anymore.
The other Lila stepped closer.
Close enough that they were almost mirror-to-mirror.
“Relax,” she said lightly. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“I am the ghost,” Lila snapped.
The other her smiled.
“Exactly.”
“Stop talking like that,” Ava said sharply.
Her composure was cracking now. Barely. But Lila saw it.
And that scared her more than anything.
Because Ava didn’t c***k.
The guy ran a hand through his hair.
“This is accelerating.”
“Accelerating to what?” Lila demanded.
No one answered.
Again.
“Okay, I’m actually losing my mind,” Lila muttered. “First the freezing. Then the skipping. Now there’s a duplicate version of me and everyone’s acting like this is some group project I forgot to prepare for. What the actual f**k is happening?”
The other Lila turned slowly toward Ava.
“You didn’t contain it,” she said softly.
“I tried,” Ava shot back.
“Tried?” The other Lila laughed. “That’s cute.”
Lila’s stomach twisted.
“Contain what?”
The guy looked at her.
Really looked at her.
And this time, there was no teasing.
No smirk.
Just something intense. Heavy.
“You weren’t supposed to become self-aware,” he said quietly.
Lila blinked.
“Self-aware?” she repeated. “What is this, some dystopian sci-fi crap?”
“Language,” the other Lila said absentmindedly.
“Shut up!” Lila snapped. “Stop acting like you’re better than me. You’re literally wearing my face.”
A pause.
The other Lila’s expression shifted.
Not playful anymore.
Not amused.
Just… calculating.
“I’m wearing the face that works,” she said.
The air felt like it got sucked out of the café.
Ava stepped between them suddenly.
“Enough.”
Her voice wasn’t loud.
But it carried.
The room dimmed slightly.
Actually dimmed.
Like someone turned down the brightness of reality.
Lila’s pulse spiked.
“Did anyone else see that?” she whispered.
The guy didn’t take his eyes off her.
“I did.”
The other Lila didn’t look surprised.
“You’re destabilizing,” she said calmly.
“Me?!” Lila laughed breathlessly. “Oh, that’s rich.”
“No,” Ava said.
And now she was looking at Lila like—
Like she was something fragile.
Something dangerous.
Something she shouldn’t want but did.
“You being here… aware… changes the structure,” Ava said.
“The structure of what?”
Ava hesitated.
And that hesitation?
That was worse than the answer.
“The narrative,” the guy finished.
Lila stared at him.
“…The what?”
He stepped closer.
Too close.
She could feel his breath now.
Could feel the heat of him.
Real.
Solid.
Terrifyingly real.
“The story,” he said softly.
Her heart thudded harder.
“What story?”
He didn’t answer.
Instead
He reached out.
And touched her wrist.
The world cracked.
Not metaphorically.
Literally.
A thin fracture split the air beside them.
Like glass under pressure.
The café lights flickered violently.
People blurred.
Voices overlapped.
Three different conversations played at once.
“Stop,” Ava hissed.
But he didn’t pull his hand away.
Lila gasped.
Because memories
Not hers
Flooded her mind.
A rooftop.
Rain.
Ava crying.
The guy holding her face gently.
Whispering, “You’re the only constant.”
Then
Another flash.
The other Lila standing where she was.
Smiling.
While Ava kissed the guy.
Slow.
Intentional.
Possessive.
Lila jerked back.
“What the hell was that?”
The guy’s expression darkened.
“You saw it.”
“Saw what?!”
“Our versions,” he said.
Ava’s jaw tightened.
“You weren’t supposed to show her.”
“She deserves to know,” he shot back.
“Know what?!” Lila yelled.
The other Lila sighed.
Almost bored.
“In the original timeline,” she said, “Ava and he are the center.”
She gestured lazily between them.
“The core couple. The axis.”
Lila’s heart dropped.
“And you?” she whispered.
The other Lila smiled faintly.
“I was written to support her.”
Silence.
“And me?” Lila asked.
Her voice barely held together.
The other Lila looked at her carefully.
Slowly.
“You weren’t written at all.”
The fracture in the air widened.
Just slightly.
A plate shattered across the café.
But no one reacted.
They were glitching again.
The guy stepped closer to Lila.
Eyes locked.
Intense.
Almost desperate.
“That’s not true anymore,” he said.
Ava’s head snapped toward him.
“What?”
He didn’t look at her.
Didn’t blink.
Didn’t hesitate.
“She wasn’t written,” he repeated.
“But I see her.”
The room trembled.
Ava’s expression changed.
Something sharp entered it.
Jealousy.
Fear.
Possession.
“You don’t get to choose that,” Ava said quietly.
“Watch me.”
The other Lila tilted her head.
“Oh, this is messy,” she murmured.
Lila’s chest felt like it was collapsing in on itself.
“You’re saying I’m… not supposed to exist?”
Ava’s silence answered her.
The guy didn’t.
“You exist now,” he said firmly.
“And I’m not letting them erase you.”
“Erase?” Lila repeated.
The other Lila stepped back slightly.
As if preparing.
“You’re destabilizing the arc,” she said.
“And when something destabilizes the arc”
The lights exploded.
Glass rained down.
But it didn’t cut anyone.
It passed through people like they were projections.
Lila screamed.
The café walls flickered.
For a split second—
They weren’t in a café.
They were on a blank white set.
Empty.
Unfinished.
Then it snapped back.
Everyone else resumed eating.
Laughing.
Living.
Like nothing happened.
Lila’s breath came in ragged pulls.
“…Tell me what happens to glitches.”
Silence.
The other Lila answered.
“They get corrected.”
“And corrected means what?”
The guy grabbed her hand suddenly.
Firm.
Protective.
Obsessive.
“It means they delete you.”
The word echoed.
Delete.
Delete.
Delete.
Ava’s eyes locked onto their joined hands.
Her voice dropped.
Cold.
Controlled.
“You’re choosing her?”
He didn’t look away from Lila.
“Yes.”
The air cracked again.
Wider this time.
Like something was tearing open above them.
The other Lila’s smile faded.
“That’s not allowed.”
Ava’s expression hardened.
And when she spoke next
It wasn’t soft.
It wasn’t calm.
It wasn’t human.
“Then we rewrite it.”
The ground split beneath their feet.
Just slightly.
Enough to make Lila lose balance.
The guy pulled her toward him.
Instinct.
Possession.
Something darker.
And as the world started unraveling around them
Lila realized something horrifying.
Ava wasn’t trying to erase her anymore.
She was trying to replace her.
And the guy?
He was staring at Lila like she was the only thing keeping him sane—
Or the only thing he wanted to break.
Then everything went black.
And when Lila opened her eyes—
She was alone.
In Ava’s bedroom.
With blood on her hands.
And a text notification lighting up the phone beside her:
Unknown Number:
You weren’t supposed to wake up here
- Writer
