Chloe Parker Part 2

Alan and Chloe sat at a table in the Master’s Suite, eyeing Sky’s latest contribution to their survival.

A wide plate of mushrooms and leaves sat between them, glossy with some kind of dressing that looked suspiciously innocent.

“Well,” Chloe said, poking the mass with her fork, “it looks vegan.”

“Um.” Alan stared at it. Something about the sheen made his instincts itch. “That might not mean much here.”

Chloe paused. “Why?”

Alan glanced at the plate again, then at the ceiling, like a man hoping God would intervene with a clear answer.

“Jill,” he said finally. “The… ship thing. The plant integration.”

Chloe’s fork stopped mid-poke. “Oh my God.”

“Yeah.” Alan nodded grimly. “You gotta eat, though.”

Chloe gave a sharp, humorless laugh and pushed the plate a millimeter away as if it might lunge.

“Fuck,” she muttered. “I really thought I was done with my eating disorder.”

Alan’s face tightened. He wanted to say something comforting. Nothing came out that didn’t sound stupid.

Chloe rubbed her forehead. “What is Sky’s problem anyway?”

“I think she’s some kind of undead former contestant,” Alan said. “But I’m not a hundred percent sure she isn’t also… a curse. Or a lesson.”

“That’s reassuring.” Chloe poked the mushrooms again as if interrogating them. “So. How’s the hotel?”

Alan blinked. “I’m sorry I haven’t checked in, but it’s been a lot since we got here.”

“I like it,” Chloe admitted immediately.

Then she looked down at her hands, embarrassed by her own honesty.

“There’s a lot to do. Everything is weird and interesting. The people here are all riddles to explore.” She shrugged, smaller now. “I don’t think I’m ever going to die if Laurel and Ariadne have a say in it.”

Alan listened carefully. He believed her. He just couldn’t fit it into his mental map of what should be happening.

“Christian and I are safe,” Chloe went on. “And we’re together. And…” She hesitated, then smirked like she was forcing levity onto the rails. “I even found the cute TA from the math class.”

Alan stared at her. “Aren’t you scared?”

Chloe’s smile tilted.

“Yeah,” she said. “But it’s like a rollercoaster for me. Everything’s loud and fast.” Her voice softened. “And there’s no pressure. No one insists I should do better. No one’s grading me. No one’s disappointed.”

She swallowed, still looking down.

“This is the best I’ve felt in a long time,” she said, like she expected the words to be used against her.

Alan’s chest went strangely tight.

“That’s… nice,” he said carefully, and meant it. He picked up his fork and made himself take a bite of the salad, mostly to give his hands something to do. “I haven’t had much time to think.”

“I can see that.” Chloe smiled at him with real affection. “None of us is exactly low maintenance.”

Alan snorted.

“Long-lost childhood friend,” he said, counting on his fingers. “Mother I thought was in a coma. Giant snake who might be my biological father.”

Chloe’s eyebrows went up. “When you say it like that—”

“It sounds fake,” Alan agreed. “What have you been up to?”

Chloe’s expression sharpened into business mode. She reached into her bag and pulled out a notepad like she’d been waiting all day to feel useful.

“Well.” She flipped it open. “I’ve ruled out a lot of escape plans.”

Alan blinked. “Already?”

“Honestly, that was the point.” Chloe tapped the page. “I needed to keep the others from jumping the gun. I don’t trust that they can keep us here if we try to escape, but I also don’t trust the universe not to punish us for trying.”

She gave him a look that was equal parts sincere and slightly manic.

“There are too many ways escape could go wrong.” Chloe sighed. “Laurel is great at remembering things that didn’t work. For her, and in other seasons she knows about.”

Alan leaned over the notepad. Most of the list was crossed out with thick lines. The remaining options were uncrossed, bracketed, and lightly underlined as if Chloe had assigned them homework.

He read them out loud.

“Seduce the host.” He paused. “Trigger a civil war among Stargazers.” Another pause. “Find ‘badass vampire aunt’ and see if she can hide us.”

Chloe nodded as if these were normal errands.

Alan continued, a little weaker each line.

“Win the competition and use the wish to our advantage. Find the enemies of the Producers. Find the true weakness of the Producers. Become Producers… but be nice when we’re in charge.”

Chloe giggled. “Yeah. It’s just a starting point.”

Alan stared at the paper. “This is… terrifyingly competent.”

“Thanks,” Chloe said brightly, then leaned back. “So, do you know what Ariadne is even doing in the harem, if she hates being human so much?”

Alan’s eyes flicked to the wall mirror, still hanging there—the one that had, for seven hours, been a television and a crime.

“I got the feeling,” he said slowly, “that she might’ve done this entirely because of a fight with her ex.”

Chloe followed his gaze. “Ah. Tess.”

Alan nodded. “We might ask her for her side of it when she shows up.”

Chloe’s eyes widened. “The girl who played the doctor.”

Alan’s soul visibly tried to leave his body again.

“Yeah,” he said hoarsely. “That one.”

Chloe tilted her head. “What did Ariadne tell you?”

“Her father said they’re still family,” Alan said. “But they used to be engaged. I don’t know if that means she’s literally related to Ariadne, or if they’re just being weird.”

Chloe stared at him. “That’s not a small difference.”

“I know.” Alan shrugged. “I didn’t think asking the depressed dragon with magical powers about her emotional vulnerabilities would’ve ended well.”

Chloe’s foot tapped under the table in a burst of genuine excitement, like a dog hearing the word walk.

“I still can’t believe we have a dragon here.”

Alan smiled despite himself. “That part is hard to argue with.”

“I did some research,” Chloe said quickly, delighted to deploy it. “Original folklore dragons were serpentine. The modern six-limbed version is new—like vampires burning in sunlight.”

“She seemed to think it was practical,” Alan said. “She went into a lot of detail, but…” He hesitated, then grimaced. “She probably wants you to have dragon-babies.”

Chloe’s face lit up like he’d offered her a scholarship.

“Oh my God,” she breathed. “That’s so cool.”

Alan blinked. “You might want to talk to her tomorrow. I never thought you wanted kids.”

“I didn’t,” Chloe said cheerfully. “When I was majoring in journalism.”

Alan raised an eyebrow.

“Now,” Chloe continued, grinning, “I’m on a new career track.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Alan agreed, trying not to laugh. “Um.”

He glanced at Sky’s mushroom plate again. It sat there patiently, like it had all the time in the universe.

“Chloe.” His voice went careful. “What are your thoughts on the whole… abduction and **** dating thing?”

Chloe looked at him like he’d asked whether she thought gravity was rude.

“I wasn’t ****,” she said. “I would’ve volunteered if asked. Anyone who knew me would know I’d want to be here.” She shrugged. “And I’m not **** to date you, either.”

“Oh.” Alan’s cheeks warmed.

Chloe’s smile softened. It wasn’t teasing now. It was sincere.

“So,” she said, flashing teeth, bright and determined, “let’s ignore this food—which is probably Sky fucking with us—and get to work.”

Alan glanced at her notepad. Then at the mirror. Then at the door. Then back to Chloe’s face.

“I’m curious what we need to do to get victory points,” Chloe added, too casually, as if they were talking about a board game and not a cosmic captivity romance show.

Alan swallowed.

“Well…” he said, and this time the blush hit harder because he knew exactly what she was doing. “Um. There is one thing I know works.”

Chloe’s grin widened, sharp and delighted.

“Good,” she said. “Then we’ll start there.”