Two Girls and a Terrible Manhwa
Sera had been staring at the same panel for approximately five minutes.
Adeline knew this because Sera had stopped blinking.
The apartment was warm despite the rain outside. Fairy lights had been strung along the wall beside the windows, their tiny golden bulbs casting a soft glow over the room and reflecting against the rain-streaked glass. Beyond them, the city glittered beneath the storm, thousands of windows glowing like distant stars while headlights crawled through the streets below. Every now and then, thunder rolled somewhere beyond the buildings, making the glass tremble faintly.
Sera, however, appeared completely oblivious to the weather.
She was sprawled upside down across their plush gray couch, floral pajama pants twisted around her legs and an oversized shirt hanging crookedly off one shoulder. Her dark-brown hair had escaped whatever attempt she’d made to tie it back earlier and now spilled over the edge of the couch, nearly brushing the floor. A tablet rested against her stomach, illuminating her face with pale blue light.
Adeline sat cross-legged on the rug nearby, a leather-bound book balanced in one hand and a black coffee mug in the other. Unlike Sera, she looked perfectly composed. Her dark hair was smooth, her oversized cardigan neatly arranged around her, and not a single crumb from the dessert plate beside her appeared to have touched the book.
She glanced over the top of the page.
“That bad?”
Sera didn’t answer.
Adeline waited.
Nothing.
“Seraphina?”
Still nothing.
“Sera.”
Finally, Sera blinked.
She slowly turned her head toward her friend, eyes narrowed with the kind of profound disappointment usually reserved for personal betrayal.
“I am trying to understand,” she said solemnly, “how an author can write eighty-seven chapters and still not understand basic human behavior.”
Adeline lowered her book.
“Let me guess.”
Sera immediately shoved the tablet toward her.
“The villainess has once again been blamed for something she didn’t do.”
Adeline looked at the screen.
“Again?”
“Again.”
“What did she supposedly do this time?”
“Poison the Crown Prince.”
Adeline’s eyebrow lifted.
“Did she?”
“No.”
“Did she threaten him?”
Sera hesitated.
“…Yes.”
“Then I can see why everyone is confused.”
Sera stared at her in disbelief.
“You’re supposed to be on my side.”
“I am on the side of logic.”
“You’re reading the same story.”
“I never said I respected it.”
For two seconds, Sera managed to maintain her offended expression.
Then her mouth twitched.
Adeline’s lips curved.
Sera burst out laughing.
“That,” she declared, pointing at her friend, “is exactly why I keep you around.”
“I assumed it was because I pay half the rent.”
“That too.”
Adeline shook her head and returned to her book.
Sera flopped onto her back and stared at the ceiling, tablet forgotten for the moment.
“I still think Seraphina got screwed over.”
“You say that every time we read this.”
“Because it’s true.”
“She tormented Adora.”
Sera’s expression changed.
She glanced back at the tablet.
“She did.”
The humor in her voice faded.
“That part I hate.”
Adeline looked at her quietly.
Sera turned the tablet around again, staring at the illustrated face of Seraphina Valemont.
Long crimson-red hair.
Sharp cheekbones.
Rich brown-amber eyes.
A beautiful face that somehow looked permanently irritated with the existence of everyone around her.
“She wasn’t always like this,” Sera murmured. “The story keeps telling us she’s evil, but it never really explains how she became that person.”
“Maybe because she’s the villain.”
“That is not an explanation.”
“It’s an explanation for bad writing.”
Sera pointed at her.
“Exactly.”
Adeline gave a tiny shrug and took another sip of coffee.
Sera looked back at the screen.
“I mean, look at her. She’s terrifying, but she’s also interesting.”
“You’ve defended this woman for three years.”
“Because everyone else hates her.”
“She tried to ruin Adora’s life.”
“I know.”
“She made sure Adora was humiliated at social gatherings.”
“I know.”
“She apparently manipulated Darian into doing things for her.”
“I know.”
“She competed with Adora over Lucien.”
“I know.”
Adeline paused.
“And you’re still defending her?”
Sera sighed.
“Not her actions. Her character.”
“That sounds suspiciously like the beginning of a dissertation.”
“It probably is.”
“You’re going to write one, aren’t you?”
“Maybe.”
“You don’t even study literature.”
“I have opinions. That’s basically the same thing.”
Adeline laughed quietly.
Sera smiled.
For a while, they returned to their reading, although Sera’s attention lasted perhaps another three minutes before she started talking again.
They discussed the absurdity of the royal court, argued over whether Lucien Everhart was actually as charming as the story insisted, debated whether Alaric Veyr had ever smiled in the entire eighty-seven chapters, and eventually wandered into the subject of Darian Ravencroft, whose habit of appearing at exactly the right moment had made Adeline suspicious from the beginning.
Three male leads.
Three entirely different disasters.
And then there was Elias Thorne, the merchant heir who hadn’t yet become important enough in the story to qualify as one of them.
Sera propped herself up on one elbow.
“If I were Adora, I’d run.”
Adeline turned a page.
“I’d run too.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“I absolutely would.”
“You’d stay for the mystery.”
Adeline stopped.
She slowly lowered her book.
“That is an unfair accusation.”
“Is it?”
“…Possibly.”
Sera grinned.
“I knew it.”
Adeline gave her a flat look.
“I simply appreciate mysteries.”
“You once read a six-hundred-page psychological thriller in one night because you wanted to know who poisoned the duke.”
“He was an awful duke.”
“You didn’t even sleep.”
“The ending was worth it.”
Sera laughed.
“That is why we work.”
Adeline smiled despite herself.
Their apartment fell quiet again, the rain filling the spaces between their words.
It was comfortable.
Familiar.
The kind of quiet that belonged only to people who had spent enough time together that silence no longer needed to be filled.
Sera eventually picked up the tablet again.
“Wait.”
Adeline glanced over.
“What?”
Sera frowned.
“The next chapter.”
She tapped the screen.
The tablet flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then the image distorted.
“What the hell?”
Adeline leaned closer.
The panel had disappeared.
In its place was a black screen with a strange symbol at its center.
Neither of them recognized it.
“Is that supposed to happen?” Adeline asked.
“No.”
Sera tapped the screen.
Nothing.
She tapped again.
Still nothing.
Then the apartment lights went out.
Both girls froze.
The fairy lights vanished.
The city beyond the windows disappeared into darkness.
For one strange second, Sera thought the entire world had gone silent.
No rain.
No traffic.
No refrigerator humming in the kitchen.
Nothing.
She slowly sat upright.
“Addy?”
“I’m here.”
Adeline had already put down her book.
Sera reached for her hand.
Something about the darkness felt wrong.
Not frightening in the ordinary sense.
Wrong.
As if the apartment itself had become unfamiliar.
Then a faint glow appeared on the tablet.
The strange symbol returned.
It pulsed once.
A whisper moved through the room.
“I have been waiting.”
Sera’s fingers tightened around Adeline’s.
“What was that?”
Adeline didn’t answer.
The screen brightened.
The room disappeared in a burst of white.
Sera felt something seize her stomach.
There was no falling.
No sensation of being lifted.
Only the overwhelming feeling of being pulled somewhere beyond the boundaries of anything she understood.
She tried to hold on.
To Adeline.
To the couch.
To anything.
Adeline’s hand remained locked around hers.
Neither girl let go.
And then—
everything went black.
Sera remembered water.
Cold water.
Darkness.
A scream.
She remembered the violent rocking of a boat and the sensation of something striking the side of it. She remembered reaching toward someone through the darkness, her fingers slipping uselessly through the water.
Then there had been a flash of crimson.
A voice shouting.
A hand disappearing beneath the surface.
And finally—
nothing.
