Chapter Text
Mona is a hopeless romantic.
Or at least she used to be.
Her romantic mindset started when she was twelve. Her mom was diagnosed with suspicious cells in one of her breasts and, to ease the tension bubbling up in the family, her father took them both out on a worry-free night of fun. That made little Mona realize that no matter how dire and terrifying a situation is, love can soothe all the pain.
From then on, Mona started telling herself a beautiful story about her life and how fate made things work out. By age twenty-two, Mona's story was perfect: she had a lovely relationship with her parents (her mom now cancer-free), an idyllic relationship with her smart, creative boyfriend, with whom she shared an apartment within the city, and a blissfully perfect job of writing romance novels for Steambird Books.
It was all working out for her. Until it wasn't.
Now, nearly at the age of twenty-four, Mona was completely broke, basically homeless, dreadfully single, and oh so miserable.
As a writer, she saw the current state of her life as a huge, gaping plot hole. A gigantic one, even. It shouldn't be surprising to hear that the story of her life had one of those. After all, every story has plot holes, even the best ones. It's... inevitable.
This big plot hole had led her to drive to a house by the lake, with everything she owned stuffed into a suitcase in the back of her car. And as she pulled over to park her car, she tried her best to convince herself that coming to this place wasn't a mistake. She really didn't want to come to the place, but it was her last recourse.
'Of course this is a mistake,' she thought as she banged her head against the steering wheel. Someone in her financial situation would be a real idiot to not accept the chance to stay somewhere completely for free.
She dreaded stepping foot into the free lodging. As much as she didn't want to, she had to eventually go in.
As she stood in front of the front door, she thought of her father's lies. She still hoped they were all a joke — although that would be a very sick one — and that he would be behind the door to hit her with a 'Got ya! Did you really think I had a second life? You've always been so silly, my dear Mona.'
But no, it was impossible for the man to be behind the door. He was gone. Dead. Buried six feet under. And unless suddenly zombies were real, there was no way for him to be somewhere inside the house.
After briefly fumbling with the keys in her hand, Mona opened the door and took in the interior of the house.
Her first thoughts upon scanning the interior were about how the decoration was completely different from how it would have been if her mom had been the one to do it. Those thoughts only served as a bitter reminder that the woman who spent time with her father in this house was not her mom, but some other woman.
Just as she was about to start walking around, her phone rang. After looking at the name on the screen, Mona picked up.
"Hello?" she said, the device wedged between her head and her shoulder as she put the box she was carrying on top of the kitchen counter.
"So? How is it?" an excited voice came from the other side. The voice belonged to Lumine, Mona's best friend (and only current friend, she thought). "Is there anything freaky?"
"Define freaky."
"Well, I don't know, leather? Or some suspicious inside swing?"
"I just got here, haven't had the time to look around yet."
"Taking it all in?"
"Mayhaps."
That, she sure was doing. She was taking in all the bold-faced lies her father had told her and her mom, now materialized as the interior of a glorified lakeside cottage.
Just as she was trying to convince herself that there was no actual way her father had spent any amount of time in this house, she spotted a clipping of a Mondstadt Times Best Sellers list from a year and a half before. Judging by the date, it had been placed there a mere month before her father passed away, and it was placed right above the fireplace, just like the one back at home.
There she was, in the bottom slot, with her second published book. And three slots above her, in a sick twist of fate, was Scaramouche, her so-called 'writing rival' since their college days, with his third novel, The Lies of the Universe . Said book had stayed on its place on the list for a long five weeks. Not that she had counted ( she had definitely counted ).
"Hello? Earth to Mona! You've been quiet for nearly a minute, is everything okay?" Lumine asked, worry apparent in her voice.
"Yeah, I may just need to step outside for a minute."
Stepping out onto the porch, Mona breathed in the fresh lakeside air. It was definitely different from the air of the city.
If this had been just a house Mona rented as a writing retreat, it would be the perfect place to write the romance novel she had promised Steambird Books.
"Can I go visit you next month?" Lumine asked as Mona made her way to the deck.
"That's so far away from now!" Mona wanted to argue that by then she wouldn't be in this place anymore, but she knew that she likely would. After all, it would most definitely take longer than a month to write a book, empty the house, and put both on the market.
"Come on Mona!!! I got my boss to give me a vacation weekend then, for all I know he's expecting head now."
"No way, head is reserved for holidays. What you're probably dealing with is something having to do with your feet," the writer laughed. She turned her head towards the end of another deck.
On that deck, laying in a lawn chair, was a man. She could only see the back of his head, but she hoped he was asleep and didn't hear her talking about 'feet stuff'.
As if he had infiltrated her mind and read her thoughts, he sat up and grabbed a bottle of beer from a patio table and took a swig of it before laying back down, back still turned to her.
"I see... Anyways, I've really gotta go now! Please, please, please let me know if you find anything freaky in the house."
"Will do, bye, love ya."
"Love ya more!" she insisted before hanging up.
Now focusing her attention on her new neighbor, Mona cleared her throat and put on her best attempt at a charming smile.
"Sorry for disturbing you," she called out.
"What's disturbing about using feet stuff as a replacement for Mora?" a voice sounded out, familiar even though she couldn't place a finger on where she'd heard it before.
Mona grimaced as she tried to come up with a reply. Old Mona would have been able to, but current Mona was socially rusty after spending the last year mostly by herself.
"Anyways, I'm your new neighbor, I guess. I just moved in."
The man simply nodded before opening his mouth again.
"If you ever need directions to the nearest Fetish Depot just let me know," he laughed.
"Lovely to meet you, neighbor," she spoke in a defeated tone before turning around to get back into the house.
She sighed, knowing that she had to begin unpacking her stuff.
Not mentally prepared to look through the house, Mona settled herself on the kitchen table, laptop on it with Microsoft Word open. As it was usual for writers, she stared at the blank page for minutes on end and it stared back at her. Regardless of how hard she stared at it, it wouldn't miraculously fill itself with words.
The thing about writing happy-ever-afters was that it helped if you believed in them.
And Mona did, at least until her father's funeral.
As she closed her eyes to blink, she was mentally transported back to the event.
She remembered feeling claustrophobic in the sea of people dressed in black. At least they were all familiar faces. Except for one person.
As much as she tried to jog her memory, she couldn't remember the woman that began to approach her. The stranger introduced herself as one of her father's old friends, but Mona recognized how the woman's tears mirrored her own and her mom's. His death had affected her greatly.
The woman had handed her an envelope with an address scribbled on the outside and a key. "This is from your dad. He loved you very dearly and wanted you to have this and to open the letter on your birthday," she had said.
Opening her eyes, she came back to the present and immediately chugged down her cup of gin and tonic. This was her third one that night.
As she stared at the empty cup, unsure if she should refill it or not, thoughts about what her family had been through before her father's death flooded her mind. Before, it seemed like after every trouble and tribulation, they always came through it stronger.
The very brief time of separation? Kitchen dancing and forehead kissing once her father returned.
Her mom's first cancer diagnosis? Celebratory dinner that came after the woman kicked it in its ass.
Her mom's second cancer diagnosis? All types of creative classes and long weekend trips to visit Mona and Albedo in Mondstadt city.
Trial. Happy ending. Tribulation. Happy ending.
It seemed like a cycle that Mona wasn't sure if it would repeat again. Who would be able to say that she wouldn't remain miserable until her last day on earth?
Shutting off the writing program, Mona looked for a distraction in her email inbox.
There, she saw an email from her agent that had arrived two days before she left Mondstadt city, which she had been putting off opening since then.
Her agent, Keqing, had a reputation of being tough on publishers and very sweet to writers. Mona honestly admired the agent, considering how hard-working she was.
Gaining the courage to finally open it, Mona read the contents. As she predicted, it was Keqing encouraging her to work on her book.
Mona sighed and decided to go to bed, hoping she'd be able to actually write once morning came.
She hesitated outside the downstairs bedroom. There was no way of knowing in which bed her father and his mistress had done the deed in, so Mona settled for the couch. It wasn't as uncomfortable as she thought it would be, so it was easy to just lay down and prepare for sleep to take her.
Instead, what took her were thoughts of her father taking her every Sunday to go stargazing in their backyard.
Looking back on it, maybe it was his way of stripping himself from guilt and adjusting back to life with her mom after a weekend with his mistress.
Right after dozing off, Mona sprung back up at the sound of music blasting somewhere nearby. 'Great. This is just plain peachy,' she thought as she got up and looked out the window. Of course, her grumpy neighbor was throwing a party. As though her night couldn't possibly get any worse than it already was.
Checking the time on her phone, she saw the numbers 12:34 am shine bright. Who in their right mind would blast Everybody Hurts at twelve-thirty at night?
She groaned as she checked out the house and noticed it was a raging party. "EXCUSE ME?!" she tried to call out, but to no avail.
After two more failed attempts of capturing someone's attention, she stormed outside and began slamming on the neighboring house's front door. But, of course, that too had no results.
Her defeated sigh was interrupted by a silhouette moving on the neighbor's dark deck. It had startled her so badly she let out a shriek.
"Archons, woman, will you shut up?" a voice came from the deck. It was the voice that belonged to her grumpy neighbor. "Do you also scream every time a car drives by or when you spot someone else outside a window?"
"I just didn't see you there," she insisted, her patience running thin at his mocking tone. "Would you mind turning off the sad boy angst soundtrack? Some people are trying to sleep."
Of course, by 'some people', she meant only herself.
The silhouette laughed. "Do I look like I'm the one controlling the playlist?".
"No, but you do look like a weirdo. I mean, to be out here sitting by yourself, in the dark, at your own party?".
Inside, the music finally came to a halt, making Mona let out a sigh in relief. That relief, however, was very short-lived, as a pop song started blasting from inside the house.
"Look, no one will be more thrilled than I will when this party finally ends and everyone gets out of my house. But it's a Saturday night, during summer, it's not crazy to play music at this hour. And maybe, just maybe , the new neighbor who stood on her deck talking about footjobs could afford to just be lenient if the party goes later than she'd like, got it?"
As much as she hated to admit it, he had a point. Past Mona would have joined in on the party like she used to, back when she lived in Mondstadt city with Albedo and the neighbors in the next-door apartment would throw their wild parties.
"I am so tired," Mona let out, to no one in particular.
The silhouette on the deck went rigid as if he guessed she was about to emotionally collapse. "I'll kick them out," he spoke after clearing his throat.
The party-goers made excited sounds as they spotted the host entering the house and were absolutely ready to hoist him up. With his back turned to her, she saw him yell at a guy with ginger hair and, moments later, the house went quiet.