Monty's Biggest Weakness: an Ex-Fangirl

Thunder and lightning consumed the night sky, pouring heavy rain over the streets of Loumont. Occasionally, the tolls of a bell echoed through the towering spires, drowning out the footsteps splashing the puddles and the trams ringing on the road. 

Frantically sprinting through the streets was a lone woman. An arm grasped onto her damp, heavy gown and the other at her throbbing chest. Her green eyes darted around the empty streets, and her heart pounded in her ears.

She twitched as someone growled behind her. She glanced over her shoulders, holding her breath as a hunched silhouette stepped under a street lamp. His pupils glowed red, his fangs baring as sharp as a snake’s, and his lifeless eyes glued onto her back. With another loud growl, he dashed towards her, arms extending out.

“Help!” the woman screamed. “Someone! Anyone! Help me!”

The young lady continued to shout and cry until her throat burned dry. She couldn’t even tell if what she tasted was the rain or her tears.

When she turned a corner, her heart dropped, facing a dead end. She whipped around, only to stop as the snarls grew closer.

“N-No,” she whimpered. She staggered back with trembling legs, and as if the person—or rather, a monster—knew her impending demise, he slowed his pace as well.

She bumped against the cold stone wall and slid down. Shielded from the rain by a small roof tile from above, she could confirm her tears streaming down her face. She sobbed and tightly grasped her arms, squeezing her eyes shut.

To think she would die tonight out of all times. She was just a young girl. She had so much to live for. Hell, she still had yet to find her prince charming. Maybe she would if she could act like a proper lady, but she’d be damned if she could find true love from acting so irritatingly polite and elegant all the time. To hell with high-class etiquette!

Sure, it was a bad idea to sneak away from the torture her parents called a “ball.” She only decided to be there in hopes of meeting that special someone, but alas, she read too many romance novels.

Even right now, at the brink of death, her maiden heart could still dream. Oh, if only there was a tall, handsome, strong, kind man here to save her right now—

There was a loud smack, followed by a thud.

The woman winced and gaped her eyes. She gasped as she met a pair of glowing, golden eyes.

Standing before her was a tall, young man with shoulder-length black hair wearing a doctor’s coat. The aggressor twitched beneath him, and when he began to move again, the man kicked him until he went limp.

The man sighed and rubbed his head as he turned to the lady. “Are you alright, ma’am? Are you hurt anywhere?”

“Eh? Oh, I-I’m fine…”

“Oh, what a relief. I'm glad I made it in time,” he said. “I deeply apologize for the trouble, ma’am. This is a patient of mine who fell into a… er, a hysteria. He must’ve escaped from his room while I wasn’t looking.”

She blinked at his calm gaze before subconsciously trailing her eyes down at his damp, white shirt and blushed profusely.

“Oh my stars,” she whispered, staring at his abs. “Is that a six-pack?”

“What?”

“What?” She aggressively cleared her throat. “I-I-I mean, th-thank you... are you single by the way—ahem—I mean, uh...!”

The young man raised a brow. “Are you truly alright, ma’am? Did you hit your head?”

The woman looked away but continued to side-stare at his chest. “No, I, uh, I mean...” She cupped her cheek and twirled her brown hair strands. “Ohhh nooo, my legs are sooo sore…”

“...Really now?”

“Absolutely! I’ve been running so much I can’t move them anymore!” That was technically true!

With another quiet sigh, the young man leaned down, wrapped his arms under her legs and back, and carried her up. She bulged her eyes and gasped. “O-Oh, my…” Bess the stars! She was getting carried like a princess! And what strong arms he had!

“I’ll carry you to my clinic and treat your legs,” he said. “I’ll also treat your fever while I’m at it.”

“Huh? Fever? What fever?”

“Your face is red.”

The lady touched her burning cheeks and shyly looked down. Her face flushed even more as she stared at his see-through shirt up close. Her heart was already pounding out of fear, but now, it began to beat out of a new, bubbly excitement. She couldn’t help but cover her face and fidget her legs, squealing excitedly.

“Uh, are you really hurt?” he asked, tilting his head. “You sound like you’re fine.”

“Huh? Oh, n-no, they, uh, my legs still hurt. Just a little, I guess. Kind of. I’m totally fine,” she said, giggling and snorting as she twirled her hair.

“Do you need treatment or not, woman?!”

She glanced at his fingers, stretching a sly smirk once she confirmed he had no ring. “Oh yes, do treat me… out on a dinner,” she said, winking.

The young man dropped his jaw, and the girl continued to cup her blushing cheeks and giggle.

“I’m Maribel, by the way!”

“Huh? I, uh, I’m… Doctor Solomon.”

Maribel giggled again, twirling her hair as she wriggled her feet. The doctor could only arch an eyebrow at her as he carried her across the streets, somewhat intrigued. Now that the rain suddenly stopped and the clouds rolled away, the full moon illuminated the streets and witnessed the two striking their first conversation together.

✦☆✦

The grandfather clock officially chimed evening, filling in the silence within the dining room. Solomon opened his eyes and looked at everyone with a hint of embarrassment. “And that is how I met my wife,” he said.

Cherry and the Vamier sisters squealed in delight and shuffled their legs under their chairs while everyone else nodded.

“The last time we heard this story, we were just kids,” said Clover. “But now, uh…”

“Sounds like your mother had a type,” said Eloi, smirking.

Clover facepalmed. “No wonder she didn’t choose Horace,” he mumbled.

“What about the patient?” asked Charlie.

“Ah, after I brought her back to my clinic, I realized I had forgotten about him,” said Solomon, shrugging, “so I went back to pick him up too.”

Theodore burst into laughter and smacked the table. “You totally fell for her too if you had forgotten about him!” he said, cackling.

Solomon blushed. “I-I just thought that she was so bold, flirting with me after going through such a situation!”

“Pfft…” Charlie cupped his mouth and snickered.

“Oh my god, Charlie actually laughed,” whispered Dorothy. “I can’t even remember the last time it happened!”

“Right?” Cherry whispered. “What a rare sight!”

Horace cleared his throat, forcing everyone to face the door. “Dinner’s ready,” he said, walking in with the dishes.

Everyone—especially the Vamier siblings—excitedly scoffed down the food the moment Horace set the dishes down, entirely forgetting their table manners. Not like it mattered.

Horace claimed the empty seat beside Eloi, elegantly picking up his flatware, only to pause and stare at Eloi in horror.

“What’s the matter?” asked Eloi, munching away.

“Why are you eating with two forks?” he asked.

“Hm? What's wrong with that?”

Horace inhaled and brushed aside his trivial pet peeve just this once. “Never mind,” he said. “Anyway, what were you all talking about?”

“About… our pasts,” Solomon vaguely said.

Cherry swallowed her food and raised a hand. “Speaking of that, I’ve been dying to ask this for months!” she said. “Mister Horace, what was your past like? How did you meet Lady Maribel?”

Horace frowned. “Is… that necessary to know?”

“Absolutely,” said Theodore. “You’re supposedly Monty’s estranged sibling, right? Maybe we can learn something about him too.”

“To defeat the enemy, we must know the enemy—as one would say,” said Charlie. “I’d like to know it as well.”

Everyone else nodded and voiced their agreement as well.

Horace sighed and intertwined his fingers. “Very well,” he said. “To put it simply, my parents were… rather abusive. They made it extremely clear that they never loved Monty and me.”

“Oh dear,” Solomon muttered. “I’m… so sorry to hear that.”

“Erm, on second thought, you don’t have to talk about it if it makes you uncomfortable,” said Cherry.

“Haha, there’s no need to worry. I already moved on from it long ago,” said Horace. “But I do admit it was terrible enough that Monty and I tried running away from home on multiple occasions.”

“I see,” said Solomon. “One of your escape attempts led you to Maribel’s family, am I correct?”

“Somewhat. It happened during a trip to a circus. While my parents were having some sort of business meeting, Monty and I decided to make a run for it, but we ended up losing each other in the crowd. When I tried to look for him, I ended up meeting Maribel herself. She was a visitor there, and when she found me, she took me in and even went out of her way to search for my brother, but…” Horace shook his head. “I suppose he wasn’t as lucky as me.”

Subconsciously, he twirled his fork while he continued to reminisce. “I was still a young boy when Maribel and I first met,” he murmured. “Her high-class family didn’t want to adopt a poor child like me, of course, but Maribel, now aware of my situation, was quite insistent on keeping me for my sake. Thus, they settled to take me in as the family’s butler, personally attending to her needs. I daresay, living in high society was an extreme culture shock to me.”

“Tell me about it,” said Eloi, whistling. “No wonder you liked her.”

Horace stopped playing with his food and squeezed his fork. “How can I not?” he quietly muttered. “She saved me from hell. Of course, I would fall for her.”

Eloi frowned. “Say, can I ask you something?”

“Yes? You may ask me anything.”

“Alright, then, did you regret it?”

Horace blinked. “Pardon?”

“I mean, did you ever regret falling in love? You always look so hurt about it.”

The ex-butler stared at his dish, pondering to himself. “I… I never thought about that. I’m… not sure…”

Eloi raised a brow.

Horace shook away the brief sorrow and confusion in his eyes and cleared his throat. “Anyhow, I’m afraid there’s not much to learn about Monty from my past—except learning that he was abused as I was.”

“I’m starting to think he got caught by his parents in the end and experienced even more abuse,” said Charlie. “That can only explain why he turned out to be a complete psychopath who’s somehow head over heels with our mother.”

Cherry squeezed her eyes shut, pondering deeply as she rubbed her temple. “If I remember correctly, Monty said he met her while running away at a circus too, right? So that’s when he fell for her too?”

“Ah, he did say that back then,” he murmured. “But I don’t remember seeing your mother.”

“It’s fine if you don’t,” said Charlie. “We never even knew our mom was a circus performer either. We thought she was just some perfumer!”

Cherry squinted at her food, digging through her memories of her time as a blind fangirl. Ever since she first saw him on stage, she dedicated herself to studying the newspapers, booklets, and magazines as if they were textbooks not only to learn more about him but to discover about many other stars and how they achieved their success in hopes of following in their steps. 

Now that she learned the gist of his hidden past... and considering everything she learned from the newspapers thus far...

"What if... Monty became a celebrity in an attempt to heal himself?" Cherry concluded.

"What?" everyone asked, facing her.

Cherry wore an expression that roused everyone's full attention, one that they never saw up until now. For a student studying in the art department, she somehow wore the face of an analytical researcher.

"Monty is dedicated, hard-working, and passionate in everything he does," she said. "He has a knack for remembering his fans' names, fulfills every promise he makes, practices humility, and perfects every performance down to its minute details. Even if something went wrong, nobody would notice since his improvs looked like it was part of the show. If someone screws up, he backs them up. If something breaks, he laughs and plays with it. His songs don't sugarcoat how cruel the world can be, but he still highlights the positive things. For example, he dedicates a whole song about how good it feels to make children laugh. That's why he earned so much respect and recognition. But, I've always wondered why he's always so extra and goes overboard with it. If he was badly abused, then it makes sense to think that he wants to feel loved, which he lacked from his childhood. As a celebrity, he probably doesn't just want to grab Mom's attention, but many more who can understand him too, so I don't think he was faking everything."

Everyone else traded surprised looks.

"Monty was right," murmured Horace. "You certainly have a goldmine of information..."

"Damn, since when did you know that much?" asked Theodore.

Cherry shrugged. "I just read a lot, I guess."

"And yet, you'd never willingly lift an actual textbook," said Charlie.

"You know I hate studying."

"But you know so much about Monty?!"

"Hey, just to clarify, I know dozens of other celebrities too! Learning about them is more fun than math and science! Besides, anyone can know that much! You can learn all sorts of people from magazines and booklets!”

"...Cherry, I don't think a normal person would know that much, let alone a fan," said Clover.

Everyone quietly nodded.

"Huh? But, that's... that's..." Cherry bit her lip.

Damn, Clover made a point. She knew far too many things about people to the point that it was weird. No wonder Monty wanted her dead. She probably creeped him out.

She tossed a reluctant glance at Solomon. "Is that why you've put me through amnesia during my injury...? You knew I knew too much information for my head to handle it?"

Solomon forced a cough. "I confess, that is one of my reasons. I apologize for keeping that from you."

Cherry slumped her shoulders.

Theodore snickered. “Don't feel so bad, Cherry. I'm sure your encyclopedia's worth of knowledge can be used to our advantage!”

“Ugh, I don’t feel proud about it anymore," she mumbled, cupping her face.

"But I am," said a familiar voice.

Everyone jumped and turned toward Ren, who leaned against the door, clutching his stomach with a pained expression.

“Every single scrap of paper you have about Monty is still secured in our home, Cherry,” said Ren. “But even after reading them, Fantario, your mother, and I still didn't learn anything useful. I should've realized sooner that you'd figure something out."

“You guys went through my stuff?!” Cherry cried distraughtly, cheeks flushing with shame.

“Yeah, sorry.”

Solomon stood up and helped Ren adjust his balance. “Ren, you’re not supposed to get up so soon,” he said. “You need to rest.”

“And be responsible for someone’s death again? You can save it.” He shoved him away and turned to the group. “Fiona’s prophecy changed again.”

If there was one other flaw to Fiona’s predictions, it was the fact that her tarot cards could only show one future at a time. Once the present day overwrote the prophesied event or once it came true, the card would turn blank, and should there be another significant event within a few days, it would replace the prior prediction with the next one.

Ren pulled out a scarlet tarot card he kept with him and slammed it onto the table.

Now that Ren survived his supposed death, the tarot card changed, and everyone turned pale as it now depicted the scene of their bodies getting run over by a massive train with glowing red scales.