Love Nikki: Chapter One

~3~

A girl in a white frilly dress covered in an orange apron stands before me, arm held out. I take it, and we shake. "I'm Bobo. Mr H. said Aron found a new girl, and I assume that girl is you. Am I wrong?"
I nod. "That's me," I tell her. Her eyes are sky blue and bubbly, much like her voice.
"Welcome to Wheat Field! If you want, I can show you around," she offers. "Like a personal guide."
Momo meows loudly. I turn to see what is the matter. He stares up at us with fire in his eyes, dragging his paws dramatically as he walks in slow circles. "I'm sure that'd be wonderful, but," I face Bobo again, "we haven't eaten all day, and Momo is starting to get very pouty about it."
Her eyebrows shoot skyward, eyes round and sympathetic. "All day? You must be terribly hungry! I can cover a meal for all three of us down at Witch Wonders." She nods and beams, as though silently congratulating herself on her own idea. "It's a cute little restaurant just down the street. It used to be a bookstore, which is why the name isn't very resaurant-y. They still haven't picked a proper name out yet!" The two fat tawny braids on her head swing halfheartedly despite her violent head shake. She chuckles to herself.
I smile, shaking my head considerably less aggressive than the girl I'm talking with. "I have some coins. You don't have to-"
"I don't mind it!" she blurts. Her hands fly to her mouth. I pull my posture back a bit, offended by her interruption. "I'm sorry! That was very rude of me!" Her cheeks flare up until they are two tomatoes, and she buries her face in her hands. She mumbles something I can't quite make out.
"Sorry?" My voice comes out more curt than I intend, and I feel a stab of guilt. This girl is just trying to be hospitable, and I'm treating her like dirt. A small part of me insists that I have the right. She interrupted me, which was rude and uncalled for. But I push that voice to the side. I try again, this time softening my voice. "Excuse me? I couldn't hear you."
Bobo resurfaces from her palms. "My mother always said I was never capable of holding my tongue. It just goes to show." Her eyes drift to the ground, cheeks still red. "I understand if you don't want to do it. I just got very excited, and I couldn't help myself." She sighed, wringing her hands. "I guess it's just a part of my nature to talk one's ear off," she muttered.
Momo meows impatiently. He glares at me, probably saying, just agree so we can get some food! Looking at the girl, I feel pity worm its way into my heart. She looks desperate and lonely. Turning her down would be impossible at this point. "I'd love to go with you," I say.
Bobo looks up, shock painting her features. "Really?"
"Of course! I'm always looking to make new friends, and besides, what harm can it do?"
Triumph sparks in her eyes. She throws her arms around me. I step back, confused. What did I do? I return her embrace anyways, pleased to have made her happy. After we break the hug, she steps back and I catch something in her eye. Sympathy? Guilt? Before I can ask what's wrong, her eyes resume their eccentric wonder filled state.
I turn to see if Momo is satisfied, but in his boredom, he has collapsed on the bench. What a drama queen.
"Well, let's go to Witch Wonders!" Bobo waits for me to collect my suitcase and call Momo, who has taken to watching us through slitted eyes on the bench. After the mention of food, he gets up and starts to trail us. I notice he watches Bobo suspiciously out of the corner of his eye. He hisses quietly at me. I can almost hear a voice saying, something about her is off. He always has something to complain about. I roll my eyes, and we head down the cobblestone road.

When Bobo had mentioned her mother's comment earlier, I had thought it was an exaggeration. Now I realize her mother had been right in every way. Bobo excitedly chats throughout supper. She leaves in breaks long just enough for me to ask quick questions, or to nod and agree. A lot of what she says is gibberish to me. She's an aspiring stylist, and seems to know every big name and event. I try to soak in all the information, but she rambles nonstop and it's hard to pick up on any details. However, there is one topic that she seems to hover on.
"So it's a dress?"
"Not just any dress!" Bobo cried. "I was truly shocked that you haven't heard of it before, but calling it any old dress is simply outrageous!" I smile. Though she can be very extra, I find it charming. Her enthusiasm is rather contagious. Her eyes sparkle as she discusses her passion, styling. "The Star Sea is one of the most admired designs throughout all of Miraland. Every designer aspires to create something just as beautiful and graceful." She sighs, staring into space with a mesmerized look in her eyes. "Imagine being so legendary as to create the Star Sea. Imagine wearing the Star Sea!" She squeals in spite of herself. I laugh. A few people from other tables glance over, but Bobo doesn't appear to care. Or notice.
"Who wears the Star Sea?" I ask. Based off of the things Bobo says, only very talented stylists must get to wear this dress. Perhaps I can find this stylist and ask for some tips.
"Well, right now it's in Cicia for the upcoming play the December Troupe will be putting on next week as a part of their tour. That play is the whole reason I'm in Wheat Field now!"
I lean forward, my interest peaked. "Are you going to see it?"
"Of course!" She falls back into her seat, eyes dancing. Perhaps I can convince Bobo to take me with her. We can visit the play together, and I can find the skilled stylist who will wear the dress. "The play is going to be Candy Witch and Star Sea. Naturally, the only one even allowed around Star Sea is Sofia." I open my mouth, but Bobo blabbers on. "I know you're wondering who Sofia is. Almost as ridiculous as not knowing Star Sea." She pauses to give me a playfully stern look. "Almost."
"Well, this Sofia must be a big deal then." I spur her on.
"She is the most famous dancer and actor in Miraland. She's almost as famous as the dress she's gonna wear for the play." Sofia. Once we get to Cicia, I need to find this Sofia and ask for her help to become a better stylist. After that, I have to go to Nanari and convince her I'm worthy of finding out what happened to my memory. "Sofia's been in all sorts of plays." Bobo's chatter interrupts my thoughts. "I haven't seen any, but I've heard her performance is that of a lifetime." She fingers the green trim on her apron. "I haven't been to a December Troupe show since I was a little girl." Her eyes glaze over, as though she is revisiting some foreign thought she had tried to lock away. "But that was a long time ago." For the first time since I met her, silence hangs between us. I expect her to pipe up again as her cheery old self. Instead, we pay the check and head out.
I'm not sure where we're going. I'm not even sure we have a destination. All I know is that we are heading down the cobblestone path of Wheat Field as the sun rests on the horizon, throwing gorgeous splashes of reds and golds across the darkening sky.
Momo walks beside me. We had gotten him some fish for supper, and he quickly wolfed it down before falling asleep at our feet as Bobo was discussing tea parties. Or something. For the first time since we got to Miraland, he appears content and happy. Perhaps he was just grumpy today because of his empty stomach.
Bobo's eyes are downcast. They look wet, as if she is holding back tears. I place my hand on her shoulder. She jerks in surprise. Her eyes are filled with fear and confusion, but when she sees me, it's replaced with recognition. "Are you okay, Bobo?" I ask. "You haven't said a word since we left Witch Wonders."
She hesitates. I try to search her face for a clue, but she gives nothing away, expression remaining neutral. "I..." I wait patiently, bracing myself for the inevitable I'm fine. She wrings her hands. "I can't talk about it."
"Oh." My heart fractures. I know I shouldn't feel this way. If she doesn't trust me yet, that's fine. We've only just met today. And yet the realization that she doesn't find me trustworthy puts a spear through me. "I understand."
"Where are you staying for the night?" Bobo's voice is suddenly chipper again. I can tell it's forced, but decide to brush it off. If it makes her feel better for me to think she's fine now, I'll let her think that.
When I consider her question, I realize I don't have anywhere to sleep. "I don't have anywhere, come to think of it," I confess. "I suppose it had slipped my mind in all the fray today."
"Why don't you stay at my hotel room?" Bobo suggests. Before I can turn down the offer, she blurts, "Even just for the night. It's faster than booking so late, and I'd hate for you to catch a cold."
I sigh. She's right. Booking so close to reception closing hours would be a nightmare, and I don't even know if I have enough coins. "Alright. But just this one night." She jumps with her fists in the air, a victorious grin spread across her face.

After getting into Bobo's hotel room, she sprints off to fetch us pyjamas as I check that Momo has some water in a dish on the floor. "We're lucky I booked a place that allows animals," Bobo huffed as she came back to the bed. "Otherwise, we'd have to smuggle that cat in."
"Thank you, Bobo. For tonight," I say graciously as she hands me a light pink nightgown.
"It's not a problem." She wanders into the bathroom, taking her braids out. "You are a very unprepared traveller, but I know what it's like to run away."
I freeze. "What?"
She laughs in her bubbly laugh, one that I would be fascinated by if it weren't for her statement. "You're trying to leave your family behind! They were bad to you in some way, and now you have to pretend you don't know anything so they can't find you." She points her green toothbrush at me. "It's why you haven't got any plans on what you're going to do next. I should know, I've been in your shoes before!"
My eyes widen in surprise. Bobo just openly admitted to having a rough home life and, on top of that, accused me of having one. Well, it's not an accusation as much as it is an assumption. How does she remain so hopeful and happy if she was forced to run away? "I'm so sorry, Bobo. I can't imagine how it must feel." I meet her gaze. "Because I'm not running away."
She watches me curiously for a moment, then shrugs. "Whatever. None of my business." She starts to scrub her teeth, which must be as white as humanly possible already. I sigh. I guess she's just as stubborn as she is talkative. Maybe I can convince her of my story some other time. For now, I join her in the bathroom with a pink toothbrush that appeared in my suitcase just as mysteriously as my coins.
After we have finished, we sit on the bed to chat for a while before turning the lights out. Bobo's constant stream of chatter has died down a bit, and I assume she is growing tired. I take the time to ask her questions I didn't have the chance to earlier. "Where do you live?" I start with.
Her response is instant. "Nowhere, not yet. I want to live in Lilith, as I grew up here, but right now, I don't have the money to own a place." She winks as she continues. "But I've learned that hotels in small towns like Wheat Field are affordable with my budget."
"How do you make money?" I ask this to learn about her just as much as I ask it to help me. I don't know how long I'll be in Miraland, but one thing is for certain; if I want to have any chance at getting my memory back, I need to make some sort of income.
She sighs, as if reluctant to tell, but she does anyways. "I mostly do styling contests. But I'm not skilled enough to win most of them, and more often than not, I lose my money."
"You bet on them?"
"Depends on your opponent, and the purpose of the battle." She pulls a pillow towards her as Momo hops on the bed, following him with lake blue eyes. "If it's agreed that the purpose is for practice, or education, no fee. If you're trying to win something, you pay an agreed amount. Winner takes all." She finishes with a yawn. "Perhaps one day, I will be talented enough to survive off styling. As for now, I might have to turn to a different paycheck."
I consider this. Bobo shouldn't have to give up her passion, but without the money, she'll struggle her entire life. "How much money do you have left?"
"Enough for Star Sea. If my luck doesn't get better by then, I'm through." Her expression is solemn.
I open my mouth to comfort her, but what can I say? No kind words can fix a situation such as this, even with the best intentions. Bobo seems to notice my helplessness. "How can we do anything about it if we're up all night? Let's get some sleep." I'm suddenly aware of my heavy eyes, and agree with a yawn. I push myself under the covers, getting comfy. She curls up under the blankets, clutching the extra pillow to her stomach. "Good night."
"Good night." She turns off the lamp, and we're plunged into darkness. As my eyes adjust, I can make out the ceiling. I stare at it. Momo lays at my feet, already softly snoring. Perhaps, in the morning, Bobo and I can save her career as a stylist. I glance at her. She breathes rhythmically, already in a slumber. When I met her, I wasn't sure how I felt about her. She was happy, but she was new. Now, I feel a friendly affection stir inside of me. I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if I let her dreams crumble to dust.
I turn my mind from Bobo to my memory. I think about all the clues I have. I'm sure I don't belong in Miraland, though I'm not sure how I know this. Furthermore, while some activities in Miraland felt normal and right to me, such as restaurants, other things confused me, such as magic and styling. This must mean that wherever I came from, styling contests aren't common, nor is magic. But the more I chase thoughts around my head, the more I think about how natural styling feels. I must have been a clothing fanatic to have such a strong connection, with no memory to aid me.
This morning, I had no idea who I was. I still don't. And although I'm still unsure of my past, I know what I am now. I'm a stylist.