Surprise! Surprise!

When Tasha left, Jurie went through the draft on her computer screen. Her foggy brain couldn’t retrieve any recollection of her writing the story. However, the image of her clone and her ominous smile played like a dream sequence in her head. Feeling the throb in her palm convinced her that what happened was real.

‘I swear I didn’t write this!’

Knock! Knock! Knock!

The gentle hit of knuckles on the door cut her string of thoughts. She froze. The image of the landlady with a distorted face due to anger flashed in her head. Her heart drummed in her chest once more.

“Miss Jurie? It’s me, Norri, your new maid,” said a familiar voice. “Sir Marcus Silva, your developmental editor, is waiting for you in the living area.”

Her mouth hung open in shock. Norri, the always-mad-at-her landlady, was her maid. And Marcus Silva—Marcus Silva, the developmental editor of the most famous authors, was her editor!

‘How did it all happen?’

She walked to the door and checked the peephole. Standing in front was indeed Norri, but the younger version of herself. She looked like she was in her late twenties, just like her.

Confusion still seized her brain, causing it to malfunction, as it failed to process the turn of events. She opened the door, and to her surprise, not a hallway but a wide bedroom greeted her. It turned out that her apartment was just a study for a bedroom that could accommodate a family of six.

“How and since when did I get rich?” she mumbled.

“What did you say, Miss?” Norri asked, wondering. “I’m sorry I had to enter your room without permission. Sir Marcus is eager to see you, even though I told him that you don’t want to be disturbed while writing.”

Marcus Silva. 

She would only hear his name on the news every time a successful author signed a contract for the movie or TV adaptation of their best-selling novel. He was the developmental editor of almost fifty novels adapted for the big screen. Not so many people had seen him, though. Only the authors he worked with knew what he looked like.

'Finally! It's my chance to meet him!' she screamed in her head.

She still couldn't believe it. Her overly stressed brain couldn't process how quickly her situation changed. 

"Am I hallucinating or dreaming? Norri, can you pinch me?"

"What?! No! I don't want to get fired on my first day." The young Norri flinched at the idea of hurting her. "You're wide awake, Miss."

Jurie sighed. She had no choice but to live the life given to her by the devil. However, a decision began to shape… she would go with the flow until she found the one who took her blood without consent!

*

“Jurie!”

A tall man with broad shoulders and an athletic physique stood up when he saw her. If her assessment was correct, he was also the same age as her, or maybe a year older. His wavy hazelnut hair was neatly combed; he smelled enchanting even from afar. He adjusted the outer placket and bottom hem of his polo shirt, wrinkled from sitting for almost half an hour.

Jurie stopped midway when they were a few inches apart. Marcus’s brown eyes reminded her of nature, the earth that had given life to green things she loved the most: the trees and the mosses growing in their trunks, including the soft grass tickling the bare soles of her feet. His Roman nose looked so perfect that she subconsciously touched hers and grimaced.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. His deep, sexy voice enchanted her even more, so she bit her tongue, not knowing how to respond.

‘Is he really Marcus Silva? He looks so young! Not to mention alluring.' She shook her head to erase the admiration she just had for him. ‘Or is he just another devil in disguise?!’

“Did you come here to take my soul?” she finally said.

“What’re you talking about?”

“I’m sorry. I mean the story I wrote with my heart and soul.”

“Actually, yes. But not only that.” He smiled at her, displaying his evenly white teeth. “Is it okay if we take a seat first? It’s difficult to discuss this vital matter while standing, don’t you think?”

He extended a hand to assist her, which she accepted, but almost pulled her hand back when a low and bearable voltage of electricity electrocuted her. The sensation was foreign to her. It was the first time a man held her hand.

“Thank you,” she said. She could feel her cheeks burning. “Is it just me? Or the AC isn’t working?” she asked and realized that the AC was on at twenty-one degrees Celsius. ‘Darn it! Why am I sweating? I’m sure now that he’s another devil. Because if not, why would I feel hot when the AC is switched on, right?’

She awkwardly smiled at him. Discomfort was all over her face.

“Are you okay? Do you want me to ask Norri for a glass of cold water?” He reached for her hand again.

“No need. Please discuss your purpose for visiting.”

“Ah, yes!” Marcus released her hand, realizing it made her uncomfortable. “Lofive is hosting a shindig at his place for his 66th birthday!”

“Lofive?! For real?!”

“Yes! The event is only for ten selected authors across the country!”

Her excitement slumped to rock bottom. Remembering her situation as a wanna-be author who hadn’t even sold a single book, made her shoulders drop.

“That’s nice. I’m happy for the ten selected authors.” She sighed, remembering that she was on hiatus because of writer’s block.

Lofive, a multi-genre best-selling author, had lived his life in seclusion in a place no one knew where. He had never shown his face, not even to his fans. He never attended book fairs. He would only send signed books to a fair, or even to bookstores. Not even his editor had seen his face. Readers and writers alike only knew of his gender. She was aware that he would only communicate with his editor and publisher through chat.

“Don’t be so glum. Have you forgotten that you’re one of the best-selling authors of this generation?”

‘Am I? I haven’t even sold one copy of my book.’ She scoffed at her thoughts. And then she realized that her life had changed the moment her evil doppelganger appeared. “Am I? Really?”

“Of course, you are!”

Marcus handed her a red envelope secured with an amethyst-colored sealing wax. A calligraphy of her name was written on the back. As she touched the golden strokes, her mind replayed all the events she experienced throughout the day.

So many things happened in less than twenty-four hours.

Her instant fame and fortune.

Norri was young and her maid, and not a nagging landlady.

Marcus, being a young and handsome man, not a grumpy middle-aged man as she thought he might be.

And the chance to finally meet her inspiration for being a writer… Lofive!

Everything was surreal but suspicious.

The circumstance she was in happened because of a single drop of her blood on a parchment paper.

'I don't know how long this would last, so I might as well enjoy the moment.'