Lillian Offspring tapped her wine glass nervously against the edge of the table, the soft clinks drowned out by the roaring celebration from her coworkers.
"To Virgin's Trial!" someone shouted, holding up a glass of champagne. The room erupted in cheers.
Around her, the game dev team was practically glowing. Months of grueling work had finally paid off--everything that she has worked for was about to launch; Virgin's Trial. It was a romance game to end all romance games. The kind of interactive love story people would cry over, meme about, replay constantly, and bust a solid one to every night. It had all the clichés: a brooding bad boy with a tragic backstory, a loyal childhood friend with a secret crush, a mysterious stranger who always seemed to be in the right place at the right time, and of course, a dashing prince with perfect hair.
And yet, as the team celebrated her vision coming to life, Lillian felt... empty.
She took another sip of wine, staring blankly into the fizzing drink. Thirty-five years old, single, and as her coworkers liked to joke, "the reigning queen of unrequited love."
But the truth was even sadder than that. Lillian didn't even have unrequited love stories to mourn. There was no one for her to love, no tragic what-ifs. Just a lonely existence where her most intimate relationships involved the fictional men she programmed into her game.
"Hey, Lillian!" her coworker Ellie called, snapping her out of her sulk. "Why are you sitting here all gloomy? We did it! The game's about to be huge!"
Lillian forced a smile. "Yeah, no, I'm happy. Just... processing."
Ellie squinted at her suspiciously. "You're not secretly crying about the 'forever alone' meme someone made of you in the Symbol channel, are you? Because you know we only did it out of love!"
Lillian winced. She did remember the meme. it was her face Photoshopped onto a cartoon surrounded by cats. "It's fine," she lied.
"Good! Because tonight is for celebrating! Come dance or something!" Ellie grabbed her arm, but Lillian shook her off gently.
"You go ahead. I need some air," Lillian said, grabbing her coat.
Outside the cool night air stung her cheeks, but she welcomed it. She wandered aimlessly throughout the city streets, her heels clicking on the pavement.
"Is this it?" she muttered to herself. "I spent years dreaming up the perfect love stories for other people, and now I'm just... here. Alone. Again."
The irony of it all hit her like a truck.
She'd created a virtual world where players could experience swoon-worthy romance with impossibly charming men, but in real life? Her longest-lasting relationship was with her houseplant.
The neon glow of a sign pulled her out of her spiraling thoughts. "Love Hotel: Couplets Euphoria." The letters flickered slightly, as if even the sign was judging her.
And then, as if fate had a twisted sense of humor, a man stumbled into her line of sight.
He was tall, scruffy, and wearing a leather jacket that screamed, I may have a motorcycle or just really like pretending I do. His dark hair fell into his eyes, and he carried himself with the kind of casual confidence that could make bad decisions seem like good ones.
"Sorry," he mumbled, bumping into her. His voice was deep, like he'd just woken up from a nap or maybe an existential crisis.
Lillian blinked at him. "Uh... no worries."
They stood there awkwardly for a moment, the Love Hotel sign buzzing ominously above them like it was waiting for a punchline.
Before she could stop herself, she blurted out, "Do you, uh, wanna... go inside?"
The man froze, his eyebrows arching so high they practically disappeared into his hairline. "What?"
Lillian flushed, suddenly hyper-aware of how ridiculous she sounded. "I mean... you know, like, just... for fun?"
He tilted his head, narrowing his eyes. "Are you trying to rob me? Is this some kind of scam?"
"What?! No!" she sputtered, waving her hands. "I just—look, it's been a weird night, and I thought, hey, maybe I should do something wild for once. And then you showed up, and, well, here we are!"
The man blinked at her, clearly questioning every life choice that had led him to this moment. "You want me—a complete stranger—to go into a love hotel with you... because you're having an existential crisis?"
Lilian cringed. "When you say it like that, it sounds... completely accurate, actually."
He scratched the back of his neck, glancing at the flickering neon sign. "I don't know... this feels like one of those stories where I end up waking up in a bathtub full of ice."
"I swear, no ice! No bathtubs!" Lillian said quickly, then paused. "Wait, unless you're into that? Because I'm open-minded, but—"
"Please stop talking," he cut in, holding up a hand.
They stood in awkward silence for a moment, the weight of her impulsive request hanging heavily in the air.
"Look," she said, deciding to throw her dignity out the window entirely, "you don't have to commit to anything. We'll go in, hang out for a bit, and if you want to bail, no hard feelings. It'll just be a story we can both tell someday. Like, 'Hey, remember that time a random woman asked you to go into a love hotel, and it was totally not a crime scene?'"
The man stared at her, his lips twitching like he was trying not to laugh. "You're either insane or the most honest person I've ever met."
"Why not both?" she quipped, giving him a half-hearted jazz hand.
He sighed deeply, rubbing his temples. "Alright, fine. But if this turns into some weird cult initiation, I'm out."
"Deal," Lillian said, grinning. "And for the record, you're not exactly screaming 'stable decision-maker' yourself."
"Fair point," he muttered, following her toward the door.
Five minutes later, Lillian found herself sitting on the edge of a cheap, heart-shaped bed, her heart pounding in her chest. The man had gone to the bathroom to "freshen up," leaving her alone to wrestle with her rapidly spiraling thoughts.
"This is insane," she muttered, staring at the tacky décor. Plastic roses hung from the walls, and the air smelled faintly of artificial strawberries.
But before she could back out, her heart began to race in a way that wasn't normal. A sharp, sudden pain shot through her chest.
"No, no, no," she gasped, clutching at her heart.
She tried to stand, but her legs gave out, and she collapsed onto the bed.
As her vision blurred, her last thought was:
"Wow. Dying a virgin in a love hotel. That's... peak embarrassing."
Lillian's undesirable, wallflower, lonely cat lady life was about to spiral in a direction she would have--never--expected. As if a formidable force was ripping her from the world she'd known; she would awaken in an unprecedented circumstance.
Reincarnated, into the body of her creation; her female lead in "Virgins trial." She is faced with her very first, sticky situation, within the grasp of a mid-sized slime monster!