Redo of a Romanceless Author’s Life Devoid of Love; Another Chance at Youth
Chapter 80.

Chapter 80.

Chapter 80. Irene. (5/7)

I checked the title on the video for the name of the song, ‘Nightcore - The Show.’ It hadn’t been a coincidence it was a nightcore version of a song. It was a style I quite liked and listened to a lot. It wasn’t unusual to see such suggestions in my recommendation feed these days. 

Though nightcore got a lot of hate because it was viewed as low effort, there were songs that I actually preferred over the original. Some might call me a heathen and scoff at me, but I couldn’t be bothered to care.

I listened to the song for a while and the lyrics really struck home. I closed my eyes while I walked and listened. Inadvertently, I started to whistle the melody through my slightly parted unmoving lips. If one just looked at me from a distance, they wouldn’t even be able to tell I was whistling to myself. They’d just see a bit of my teeth and a trail of condensed air coming out of my mouth.

I examined the image more closely and couldn’t help but see a resemblance to the girl in the background picture who resembled Irene a little. Her hair color and hairstyle at least. But that’s as far as that resemblance went. Her eyes were purple, and there were pink hearts in her eyes. Honestly, it was actually a rather scary-looking girl. If Irene were a Yandere, she’d probably look something like this. The blood smeared on her face and hands spoke volumes of how broken this girl was.

Curious about the original artist, I checked the description of the video for their name. It was sung by Jake Daniels.

When the song finished, I decided to have it play on repeat by changing the URL up a bit. That was just how much the song fit my current mood. Between lyrics, it swapped in and out from the vocalist's voice to an echoed version of the vocalist's voice. The lyrics appeared in the video line by line as the song progressed.

“Another day.”

“(Feelin like no one really knows me.)”

“It’s okay.”

“(At least I’m used to being lonely.)”

“Flip the page.”

“(Keep reading all my favorite stories.)”

“They take away.”

“(All of my demons that control me.)”

Walking to this melody, I opened my eyes and looked up. The sky was dark, cloudy. The street lights were dim, they flickered like they’d be blown out like candles from the strong gusts of wind that blew on the power lines connected to them. 

“All of these monsters in my head.”

“Tellin me that I’m better dead.”

“Maybe I’ll try and take some meds.”

“That’s what my therapist suggests.”

Thick patches of snow piled on top of the street lights as snowflakes whirled about in the wind forming miniature tornados on their descent to the ground.

“Welcome to the show.”

“(Tell us your problems.)”

“We already know.”

“(The perfect outcome.)”

“Then we’ll send you home.”

“(With something toxic.)”

“Don’t know if it goes.”

“(But it’s an option.)”

The light could not reach me through this snowstorm. I could not be saved.

“Welcome to the show.”

“(Tell us your problems.)”

I would never.

“We already know.”

Lies. Nobody knows.

“(The perfect outcome.)”

There is no such outcome.

“Then we’ll send you home.”

“(With something toxic.)”

“Don’t know if it goes.”

“(But it’s an option.)”

“Welcome to the-”

I slowly drowned myself inside this cold, deep, dark abyss enshrouded on all sides by snow. My cheeks were frozen from temperature reaching minus fifty and below. 

“Burdens on my brain.”

“Keep me feeling so insane.”

“While I’m walking through the halls.”

“Feel like everyone is fake.”

The wind chilled my body and robbed me of all the warmth trapped inside my jacket.

“But their eyes on me. (I wonder what they really think.)”

“Maybe that I’m weak.”

“(Or maybe I should see a shrink.)”

With my hands frozen stiff, unable to so much as hold my phone properly out in this cold, I put my phone in my pocket and listened to the song play out. Over… and over… and over again. 

Endlessly, the same exact lyrics echoed in my head on repeat. 

In this fashion, I remained all alone on this mindless journey to my apartment, my lone senseless whistling, camouflaged by the cold violent winds in the dark of this stormy night.

It was cold to the point the liquid on my eyes would freeze in no time if not careful. The scarf I had wrapped around my neck did nothing for me. It would stick to my dry cracked lips from the moisture that built up on the fabric whenever I breathed out.

Every breath taken was visible and distinct as a result of condensation.

This weather wasn’t intended for humans. It was weather intended for monsters who couldn’t feel, those who lacked a heart. It was… perfect for me. Others might hate this sort of extreme weather, but deep down, somewhere in me enjoyed it.

I was accustomed to it. I’d been battered by it for years now.

I eventually lost track of time.

I only knew how to walk forward.

That was all I could do.

If I walked straight forward I’d arrive at my destination.

That was the only thing on my mind.

Honk! Honk! Honk!

The sound of a car horn came from my right pulling me back to reality. With my lips still parted and my eyes open devoid of life, I tilted my head up to the right and saw a car parked to my right as winds blew up the snow on the ground in a sparse cyclone around me. 

When the surroundings finally registered in my brain, I realized I was in front of my apartment complex.

Inside the parked car, with fogged-up windows, a woman was seated. She looked directly into my right eye which she could see from her angle.

The identity of this person who’d honked their horn to catch my attention was Irene. When she saw me, she got out of her car in a rush, ran up to my side, and pulled me by the hand inside the apartment complex.

Though I was surprised to see her, I vaguely understood something. She’d likely predicted I wouldn’t return to her place from the very beginning. Rosa being a hostage was simply a distraction so I wouldn’t realize the method she really intended to use to get me to return to her place. To park up outside where she knew I lived, patiently wait for me, then ambush me before I got inside.

Inside the building, she said, “I knew you wouldn’t obediently return to my place. You’d definitely use the excuse of busses despite the fact you’d walk through the storm all the way from work to home on your own.”

“Can you please leave me alone?”

“No. I’d like to meet your parents.”

“My… parents… heh, sorry to disappoint, but you won’t replace something like parents here right now. So… you should just go home.”

“Are they out?”

“You could say that.”

“Then I’ll wait for them with you inside until they get back.”

While heading up to my unit she continued following me on her own.

“You’re wasting your time. They won’t be back any time soon.”

“Oh? When will they be back then?”

“...” I didn’t answer her.

“What are you listening to?” Seeing the earbuds in my ears, she suddenly asked me that.

“Nothing.”

Walking beside me on my left, she snatched the cord of my right earbud and put it in her right ear.

I could have snatched it back from her, but I didn’t bother to. Who cares?

After an entire play-through of the song, we arrived in front of my unit.

I asked her one more time, “Can you please go away?”

“I refuse.”

It seemed she wouldn’t leave until she achieved her objective. I already knew what it was. To confirm her suspicions.

I let out a long sigh without a shred of emotion. I turned the knob slowly into the open position. I then lightly pushed it for it to screech open on its own and reveal what was behind it.

Nothing. 

Empty. 

Desolate. 

Barren. 

There was nothing at the entrance. 

When I stepped in she followed closely, right beside me. 

There wasn’t a single piece of furniture in the living room. The kitchen only had the bare minimum appliances, nothing extra. The counters were clear. The cupboards were spotless with only dust lining them from the lack of use. The fridge only had cans of coke. The freezer, the exact same TV dinner, completely filled it.

My room, a bed. My laptop was on top of it. There were no chairs anywhere. Not a single table or desk.

My closet had clothes, but they were all old. I rarely bought new clothes for myself.

All the rooms made one question whether someone could really be said to be living here.