That's good, at least

The only things that you can see, is all that you lack, come on up to the house

Breakfast had been delicious. In spite of her doubts, Morgana was actually a decent cook, especially with Mary and Holly helping her out. She surprised even herself. And Nick was definitely pleased by her results.

That being said… his stomach was presently doing flip-flops. But as Nick stood in front of the elevator at the base of the Shopping District and shielded his eyes from the sun, he felt pretty sure that unsettled feeling in his gut had nothing to do with breakfast, at least, he hoped it didn’t.

No… today was his date with Sylvia. It had been a full round since his last one, and needless to say, he was not entirely sure how to approach it.

Simply put, Nick’s relationship with Sylvia was probably the most bizarre out of all his relationships with his harem. Augmented Synthetic Humanoid Assassin and Cinder and Ella didn’t come close, and even with how awkward things had become with his stepmother, at least they still had a foundation of a relationship, as parent and child.

With Sylvia, though? With Sylvia… things were just weird. Not only because she called him “Daddy” because of her transformation (though that was part of it- along with how much she seemed to relish in the idea of him actually being her father) but just because… his relationship with her colored things in a strange way.

When he first met her, she’d been pretending to be a licensed therapist, which he’d later come to learn was a setup to get him to reveal his deepest desires to her, setting the stage for luring him to this island and the show. At the time, Nick had treated her with hostility, and he felt that was a reasonable response on his part. Whatever their relationship had morphed into now, back then she was still delighting in tormenting people he cared about, and a lot of the damage she had done was not so easily undone.

Sure, that was how she’d been created. You could argue that she didn’t know any better, that she was manipulated by Dakota and the producers and that she’d never really had a chance to be anything BUT that.

But in Nick’s eyes, that didn’t fully absolve her of guilt. It absolved her of most of it, yes, and even Dani had apparently forgiven her, but it still just sat strangely in his chest, knowing that behind that innocent smile and those bright blue eyes was the same woman who had (apparently) been masturbating when Mary attempted to confess in the church.

…Yeah. He didn’t understand it either.

Sylvia was both enigmatic and straightforward in the most confusing of ways. It felt like when he tried to get close to her, to really get close to her as a person, she wouldn’t let him. But the ways she wouldn’t let him were just innocent enough that he couldn’t be sure if she was doing it intentionally, or if it was just her airheadedness.

“Haaah… I don’t even know how to approach her, if I’m being honest…” Nick sighed and rubbed his temples in frustration. He felt for Sylvia, he really did. The things she’d gone through… Dakota had no right to treat her the way she did. Of all the things that upset him the most about his childhood friend’s actions as a host, that was the one that got to him the most.

…Well, also the innocent people she’d inflicted cruel transformations upon in her years and years of running this show. But, well, Nick didn’t know any of those people so it didn’t really hit the same. Maybe that made him a bad person, but to be frank, he doubted anybody reading this cared, either.

…Wait, what?

Nick shook his head, feeling a little dazed. Weird. Must have been a remnant from that strange dream this morning. He pushed those odd thoughts aside and refocused on Sylvia, knowing that she’d be showing up any minute now. That was the message Nola had passed along to him when she strolled into the Master’s Suite in the middle of breakfast. She said that Sylvia had some stuff to prepare for, and that they should meet up at the Shopping District.

Barring any specific rendezvous locations, Nick found himself camping out in front of the entrance feeling kind of weird for loitering.

And with nothing else to do… Sylvia’s face kept filling his mind. Both her old appearance, and her new appearance. That was another issue. Maybe he could have been more open to a relationship with her in spite of the weirdness if she still looked like her old self. But when her transformation turned her into an eighteen-year-old, it was a stark reminder that she was a magical construct brought to life by Dakota; her actual age?

…

Nick didn’t want to think about that. Come on, it’s not her fault, he reminded himself. Whatever is “wrong” with Sylvia… that’s… because of Dakota. That’s the truth here. She’s as much a victim as the rest of us… no, even more.

He would never forget that day when Sylvia was “removed” from her position as host of the show. The way Dakota had callously and cruelly erased her from existence like blowing apart a dandelion.

And why had she done that? Why had the woman he had once loved more than anything in the world committed coldblooded **** without batting an eye?

Because she didn’t even consider Sylvia a real person. That was the most horrible thing. She had created Sylvia to be the host of the show. She was in many ways the closest thing Sylvia really had to a parent. And she’d erased her without thinking twice, because she viewed Sylvia as just another toy in her playbox, a prop, something that wasn’t “real” to her.

Sylvia had begged for her life, and Dakota had taken that in stride, acting like it was just because she’d been programmed that way.

It was in that moment that Nick finally saw just how deep her darkness ran. He’d thrown himself at her mercy and pleaded for Sylvia’s life, and to his relief, she’d been granted a reprieve. But the damage had been done. No matter what became of Sylvia after this, she would forever hold the memory of her “mother” erasing her from existence like it was nothing.

The discomfort in Nick’s stomach had spread to his chest. He balled up his hands into fists, and exhaled.

“I don’t get it,” he mumbled, fighting back the tears in his eyes. He tried to draw on his rage to suppress his sadness, but the two were too tightly woven together, he couldn’t do it.

Why did it have to be like this? Why couldn’t Dakota have embraced Sylvia as a daughter and given her the love a parent was supposed to give to her child? He knew she was capable of it. Her love for him was as strong as ever, after all, even if it had been twisted and warped into something dark and dangerous. Something that sent a shiver down his spine just thinking about it.

But when it came to Sylvia…

Am I any better, though? He found himself asking. Of course, it was an absurd question. Was Nick on the same level as the woman who had erased Sylvia from existence? Obviously not. But… he struggled to accept her as well, didn’t he? Not just because of the things she had done, no, he could move past that. Even her age and her personality weren’t obstacles really, considering he’d just finished spending the day with Morgana who was in many ways as young and immature as Sylvia herself.

So why couldn’t he accept her? Why couldn’t he be in a relationship with her, or even properly categorize his feelings towards her? It couldn’t just be because of the “Daddy” right?

No… there was something holding him back. Some part of himself that he’d yet to unpack that let him be with the other women in his life, but gave him pause when it came to Sylvia.

Acknowledging that fact made him feel emboldened.

I can’t keep acting like this doesn’t affect me. I can’t keep stalling. Sylvia is facing me with an open heart, and I need to do the same. If I keep pushing her away and keeping her at arms’ length while still caring for her, it’s just going to hurt her even more. She needs stability. And to give her that… I need to figue out what Sylvia is to me, he decided.

He needed to decide that today.

“Daddy!”

Nick was shaken from his storm of thought by the cheerful chirp of a familiar voice, but when he raised his head and saw Sylvia step out of the elevator, she looked as unfamiliar as he could have imagined.

Cinder was in a very bad mood. Not just because of the mess with Vivian the night before- no, that was just another pain that she had to deal with. Aargh! I can’t believe it! How did I miss her last night!? She was passed out on the couch and I walked right by her, screamed into a pillow, then went to get MORE milk, and THEN she wakes up!? And then she had the nerve to say… no, stop thinking about it. That isn’t important right now!

Cinder pushed those thoughts away and turned over in bed, or at least she tried to.

The problem was, someone had a tight grasp on her arm and wasn’t letting go- and by someone, she meant Rose, her bitch of a roommate. The blonde was zonked out, hugging Cinder’s arm with all her might, squishing those soft breasts against her elbow.

If there was one thing Cinder hated about this show (and there wasn’t, there were like, forty different things) it was that she had to share a bed with another person. There was nowhere she could go to be safe and isolated from others; no WONDER Ella was always calling on her!

“Let go of me.” Cinder drove her heel into Rose’s stomach and **** her off, kicking the dozing blonde onto the floor with a yelp.

“H-hey! Ow!” Rose scrambled to her feet in a tizzy, her cheeks flushed. “What the heck!? I thought there was a prohibition against ****!?”

“Shove a sock in it,” Cinder growled, not even looking at her as she took advantage of her newfound freedom and climbed out of bed.

Oh, well, she did look at her for a couple of seconds, to give her a glare. Not that those ever worked on the annoying bitch. No, Rose just glared right back at her with her hands on her hips, and puffed up her cheeks into a pout.

“Looks like somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning,” she said with a bitchy sneer.

Cinder wasn’t taking her crap right now. “And you woke up on the floor,” she bluntly reminded her roommate.

Rose didn’t have a good answer to that. Or if she did, Cinder blocked it out.

Fact was, the reason she was in such a bad mood was because Rose was right.

Cinder had woken up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. Or, to be more accurate, any side of the bed Cinder woke up on was “the wrong side” because she wasn’t supposed to be waking up at all.

Ella was the one who started the mornings, or at least, that’s how it was supposed to be under ordinary circumstances. Her alter was the dominant personality, after all- Cinder was only supposed to come out when the pressure was too much for her other self to take, and she retreated to the safety of her mind so Cinder could defend her.

So why the fuck was Cinder out right now?! Was last night really THAT traumatizing for her? What, spicy food too much to handle? (Although, Cinder didn’t like it either…)

Grinding her teeth together, the irritated latina stomped over to the bathroom, cursing under her breath as she navigated around the sea of mannequins that turned her living quarters into a miniature obstacle course.

God, she couldn’t wait for this fucking round to be over, so she could move to a new fucking bedroom. She hated it here!

…Even if it was convenient to not have to buy new clothes all the time. Especially since they would be shopping for two.

Or, Ella could have some fucking taste, Cinder thought to herself as she viciously brushed her teeth like her gums had personally insulted her. She couldn’t believe the ugly, frilly crap that her other personality liked wearing. How many times had Cinder emerged, only to find herself dressed in some foofy skirt or dorky little sweater? How many times had her face burned in humiliation for how the others looked at her when she did?

Too many. Too many goddamn fucking times.

And yet… there was nothing Cinder could do about it. As she stared at her reflection in the mirror, at her tangled, oily hair, sunken-in eyes, and sour scowl, she felt nothing but impotent frustration. She couldn’t get mad at Ella. Not really. Ella was just… Ella. She needed to be protected. If there was anything fucking good in Cinder, it was in Ella, and that needed to be nurtured. Shielded.

Cherished.

It was for that reason and that reason alone that Cinder had not voiced her many objections to them being brought onto this show. Because she knew what would have happened had they stayed back in that place. There would have been a trial, and they would have lost. Or maybe they would have won. Which would also be a loss.

Ella would never be free. She would never be happy. Not the way Cinder wanted. Whether a prison of bars and stone walls, or a prison of doctors and medication, Ella would not have lived the life she deserved to live- not unless she came here. So Cinder had agreed without hesitation.

The doctors, the lawyers, everybody always said that Cinder was just rage and anger. All of Ella’s negative emotions made manifest as a white-hot ball of wrath aimed at anyone Ella couldn’t bring her conscious self to be angry at. Like- like she was some fucking disease that needed to be cut out, but she wasn’t!

“I’m a person, too!” Cinder had wanted to scream so many fucking times, but she never did.

Because what would it matter?

It wouldn’t change anything.

“You gonna be in there all morning?” Rose knocked on the door. “I need to take a shower, you know. And it’s not like you’re doing makeup or fixing your hair or anything, we both know THAT’S never going to happen!”

Cinder’s eye twitched.

That fucking woman. Where did she get the nerve?!

Cinder really, really didn’t like Rose. She didn’t like the way Rose talked to her, she didn’t like the way Rose looked down on her, she didn’t like the way Rose was still fucking breathing.

Rose… didn’t she even fucking care that this was Cinder she was talking to, and not Ella? Acting like she could do whatever she wanted, like she didn’t have to be wary around her, treating Cinder like, what, she was a normal fucking woman or something!?

Where did she get off, pretending like Cinder was just like everyone else?

Where did she get off, acting like they could be friends?

With a tired sigh, ironically too agitated to put up a fight right now, Cinder trudged out of the bathroom, flipping her middle finger up at Rose as she shoved her aside.

“Sylvia… wow, you look… different,” Nick said, taken aback by the girl standing in front of him.

A while back, Sylvia had tossed out the idea of getting a haircut for her date with Nick. Marley hadn’t given it any thought afterwards, but that apparently was what she’d settled on doing. Only instead of a haircut, she’d somehow managed to grow her hair out. It was a deep, vibrant purple, a stark difference compared to her bright red, and her original blonde. And it was long again, tied up into a ponytail that trailed down her back.

And she didn’t stop there.

Not only had Sylvia changed her hair, but the rest of her style, too. She wasn’t wearing the punk clothes Nick had gotten used to seeing her in, the ones that made her look like a skimpier Gina thanks to her clothing restrictions.

Nick… honestly had no idea how to describe what he was seeing.

Sylvia’s original clothing sense was… weird.

There was no other way to really describe that bizarre outfit she’d worn when she was a host.

At least now, her clothes looked like something a human being would actually wear, but… not a normal human being.

Between the tight, sleeveless top and the fluffy skirt, she looked like she’d stepped right out of a pop idol group or something.

It… maybe suited her? Maybe? Nick wasn’t sure one way or the other.

But he knew better than to say anything. Too bad his mouth disagreed.

“Different? Good,” Sylvia giggled, shaking her head and making her ponytail swish behind her. She rested her hand on her hip and smiled. “I was going for ‘different’. Wanted to make a big impression on you.”

Well, she’d succeeded there.

“…Your hair?” Nick stammered out. He really needed to get up to speed. “How’d you-?”

“How’d I get it this long?” Sylvia interrupted him. She grinned and twirled a fringe of her violet locks. “I’m borrowing Carly’s transformation for today, that’s how. Anime Black. Remember that one?”

Nick did remember. That was the one that let Carly change her hair however she wanted.

“It was always one of my favorites, but Carly didn’t make use of it nearly as much as she could have,” Sylvia said with a sigh. “I always wanted to see what it could be like on someone without her cosplay restriction, though, so… here we go!”

She held out her hands in presentation, smiling from ear to ear.

Nick felt something was amiss when he saw that smile. He couldn’t explain what exactly it was, but… the way Sylvia was looking at him, it just seemed… off.

Maybe not in a bad way. But in that strange, unsettled-stomach kind of way. Like there was something she wasn’t letting out onto the surface. Something behind the airheaded, flighty persona that she brandished so cheerfully.

But he pushed those questionable feelings aside. They were on a date, now, after all. And if something was up with her, it wasn’t his place to pry. He just had to hope that whatever she was going through right now, she’d open up to him when she was ready.

Nola walked on eggshells as she paced around Dakota’s private suite.

That was usually what she did, on the rare occasions when her boss was sleeping.

Dakota didn’t need to sleep; when she did, it was because she personally chose to. And that seldom ever occurred.

So while Nola was busy scurrying around doing Mary’s bidding, and passing on messages from her bestie Sylvia, she stopped by to ask Dakota if there were any other preparations she could help with for the upcoming challenge… and found her boss fast asleep.

What now?

If Nola said or did the wrong thing and Dakota woke up… that would be bad.

Very, very bad.

Her boss was in a bad mood even when her sleep wasn’t interrupted, so to wake her up now-

“Good morning, Nola. Wearing out my carpet with your pacing, I see?”

Nola jumped ten feet in the air. The only reason she didn’t scream was because for once, she’d lost her voice.

When she landed back on the ground she whirled around, eyes bulging as she tried to **** a smile onto her face.

“O-oh! Hey there, b-boss!” She stammered out.

When Dakota was smiling, she was scary.

When she wasn’t smiling- like now- she was downright terrifying.

Then Dakota smiled. And Nola realized she had that backwards.

“Leave.”