"Knock knock?" I leaned on Amy's closed door in wait of her answer.
"Mmh mmh."
Taking her mumble as permission to enter, I pushed the wooden panel open and froze in bewilderment.
"I look ridiculous, don't I?" Ames tugged on the collar of her vintage Perfecto. Under the unzipped jacket, a black shirt and tartan skirt completed her grunge outfit.
"Girl, you rock."
With a sigh, she strode to the full-length mirror and scrunched her nose. "It's not too much, is it?"
"Depends. If you dressed up to go downstairs and do the dishes, it might be a tad overboard."
She rolled her eyes and confessed, "Remember this band I said I would audition for? Yesterday, their lead guitarist hurt his wrist rock climbing, so they're kinda desperate to find a replacement before their next gig."
"This is wonderful. I mean, not for the dude who sprained his wrist, but yay for you, Ames."
"I don't know. This is so sudden..." She opened her wardrobe, and slipped on a wader on her left leg and a military boot on her right foot.
"Waders," I replied to her quizzical look.
While she put on the matching shoe, I picked up the discarded clothes that blanketed the floor. "Are you having second thoughts about joining this band?"
"No. Yes. Maybe. I accepted to audition for rhythm guitar on a whim. It was supposed to be a tryout, an experiment. Never did I dare dreaming of being the lead guitarist. Leah, what if I suck? I've taught myself to play using YouTube videos, for God's sake. And only practised in my bedroom."
I folded an Evanescence tee-shirt. "Amy, believe it from someone whose room shares a wall with yours: you do not suck. Sure, you're no guitar hero, but if these guys were good enough to land a gig, they'll be able to spot a rough diamond."
"Wow. Thanks for the pep talk. I feel much better now," Amy grumbled with a sarcastic tone. She threw another glance to her reflection. "Urgh, something's wrong with my outfit."
I studied her dark eyeshadow, ruby matte lipstick, and the Dutch braid she had tamed her hair into.
Nah, my sister was perfect. With a smirk, I echoed her worry, "Indeed, there is something missing."
She got closer to the mirror and scrutinised her makeup. "What?"
I wrapped her in my arms from behind, and smooched her cheek. "A lucky kiss."
Amy elbowed me, but merriness and glee shone in her eyes. "You're such a dork."
"Should I take my kiss back?" I threatened.
"No." She held her palms towards me in defense, and stepped backwards to the hallway, pausing at the desk for her car keys. "Tell the parents I won't be home for dinner. I'll grab a burger with the band after auditioning."
"Oh, right. I came here to tell you that Dad dropped Mom off at her law firm, and is on his way to a local vegetable producer's."
"Really? Didn't she say she would refrain from working on weekends?" Amy's brows knitted together.
"I know. She should take it slow, now that Dad is earning money with his food blog."
Amy shrugged as she juggled with her keys. "Force of habits. Mom was the family provider for decades since Dad asked to stay home to take care of us. Anyways, you'll be by yourself all afternoon."
My mind darted to the Bridge and to Theo. "No problem. I got stuff to do."
A smirk played on her lips, but I held her stare without batting an eyelid. With a chuckle, she galloped down the stairs and waved me goodbye. "Have fun with Darcy."
I didn't reply, but she caught a glimpse of my reddened cheeks, and her renewed chuckle followed me into my bedroom.
A notification materialised the moment I applied my Bridge.
Update 15.10b:
• Minor bug fixes
The loading animation pulsated under the message during the installation. I huffed in impatience and fidgeted with a loose thread on my sheet.
Would this new version revert my virtual best friend's gender back to female? We had only spent a few moments together with the Bennets in the drawing room before I had paused the game. I hadn't managed to check how close to Charlotte's his spirit was. And I had yet to process the implications of this divergence from the original plot.
Would Charles end up marrying someone? Not Mr. Collins, obviously--the clergyman was engaged to my middle sister. Perhaps he would remain a bachelor, and enjoy life with a freedom that his female counterpart could only dream of. However, this hypothesis was rendered unlikely by his status of heir to Sir Lucas' fortune. I sighed: even in this variation, my friend would have to find a suitable spouse.
The animation disappeared as my cotton bedsheets faded to sky blue velvet. On my right, Mrs. Bennet and Mary faced each other in the twin armchairs, Collins hovering behind the latter. Sitting on the sofa next to me, Kitty and Lydia stifled yawns while we listened to the young clergyman's recollection of his successful proposal. Jane had picked a window seat, and nodded at his tale with a daydreaming smile, no doubt lost in memories of yesterday's ball. As for Charles Lucas, he was leaning against the mantelpiece.
A white aura surrounded him as a message floated above his head.
Would you like to keep this custom NPC, or revert to your previous save?
While I pondered the question, Charles turned to face me and shot Idris' disarming smile.
"Of course not. I'll keep him. Thanks, Bridge."
Would you like to keep the other custom NPCs that you haven't encountered yet?
"Yes, please."
The aura disappeared, leaving me curious about Mr. Lucas and the characters I hadn't met yet.
When Mr. Collins paused to catch his breath, I jumped on the occasion to interrupt him, and at the same time get better acquainted with my updated neighbour. "Charles, would you like to go upstairs?"
An awkward silence settled on the room after my words, broken by my mother's snappy reply. "Lizzy, what an improper proposal. Mr. Lucas being your childhood friend does not excuse your shocking invitation."
Charles squirmed in front of the fireplace, a vibrant shade of pink colouring his cheekbones. "Please, Mrs. Bennet. I am quite certain Eliza meant no harm."
My gaze flickered from him to Mr. Collins and Mary's matching disapproval. What was inappropriate about a man and a woman chatting in a private place, a fortiori two close friends? I lowered my eyes before the feminist within could burst out and cause a collective heart attack.
"Lizzy, dear Charles, how would you fancy a stroll to Netherfield?" Jane's offer took me by surprise. I turned to her with perplexity, pondering the effects of a last meeting with Bingley's party. Meanwhile, she went on, "My handkerchief seems to have escaped my reticule yesterday. I would like to question Mr. Bingley on the matter before his leaving to town after noon."
Mrs. Bennet tightened her lips in a fine line, divided between decorum and her wish to parade about her eldest daughter one last time. "You may take the coach if available."
"Thank you, Mama." Jane got up and I followed suit.
After a bow, Charles Lucas took leave. He motioned towards the library. "I shall extend my congratulations to your father while the carriage is being prepared."
"I shall grab our coats, but first, I should ask Hill if the horses can indeed be spared." Jane went in search of the butler, and I loitered in the empty corridor.
My feet took me to the oval mirror in which I had discovered my appearance a mere month ago. While I grunted at a rebellious hair strand and attempted to pin it back, Mrs. Bennet exited the drawing room. Unaware of my presence, she paused, her back to the wall, and sucked in a shuddering breath.
Brows furrowed with worry, I darted to her side. "Mama, are you all right?"
She blinked at me in surprise. "It is such a relief to have one of my daughters engaged."
I contemplated the tears pooling in her eyes, and after a moment of hesitation, hugged her. "Oh, Mrs. Bennet. I knew you were a softie. I found it hard to believe that under all these layers of silliness and superficiality, there wasn't a caring parent."
"Why, Miss Lizzy. Is that a way to address your mother?" Annoyance filled her voice as she shrugged me away, her armour back on. With an exasperated tsk, she strode to the staircase and disappeared into her room. I smirked in her direction, happy for this glimpse into her psyche.
After a few minutes, Jane returned from the kitchen with good news. No muddied boots would dirty Netherfield wooden floors today.
While we sat with Charles Lucas in the coach, I whispered, "Hey, let's do Get Help."
The answer materialised in a heartbeat.
I'll be waiting on the porch.
"Dear Charles, did you enjoy yourself yesterday?" Jane inquired. "I do not recall your participating in a single dance."
"Mr. Long persuaded me to join the whist table. I have lost five shillings to that old geezer." Charles scrunched up his nose with an offended wave.
Jane hid a smirk behind her gloved fist. "You should know better than to sit down to a card-table. You are terrible at evaluating your adversaries' hands."
Charles shrugged. "Mathematics, and in particular statistics, have never been my forte."
"Then you should not gamble your allowance." Jane's voice was stern but affection shone in her gentle eyes.
I joined their conversation. "Oh, Charles, what would Sir Lucas say about his heir dilapidating his fortune?"
"Dilapidating? Your severe words, dearest Eliza, will leave a lasting stain on my soul. I shall never recover from such harshness. At least not until the next time I shall sit at a card-table." He mumbled the last sentence under his breath, but shot me a mischievous grin when I caught him.
I giggled at his playful and easy manners, and he chuckled back.
"Though absorbed by a fierce game of whist, I could not help but notice that Mr. Darcy and you were engaged in the most heated intercourse."
"W-what?" I choked on my own saliva as pictures of Darcy's naked and sweaty body flashed before my eyes.
Jane grasped my hand, and Charles straightened himself with concern.
Intercourse means conversation or social activity between people. Now get your mind out of the gutter.
I blinked at Theo's words, and, putting a lid on my flush, stammered, "Oh, yeah, sure. We were having, err, intercourse."
"My goodness, could he be in love with you? What other reason could there be to his asking your first dance?" Charles mused, his gaze locking with mine.
"Mr. Darcy must have regretted his rudeness at the Meryton assembly, and was making amends by honouring me with his proposal." I held his stare, though Idris' piercing eyes were almost my undoing.
"The whist required my attention for a moment, and when I laid eyes on Mr. Darcy again, he was huddled up in a corner of the ballroom with Miss Bingley."
"Oh, right." So that's where Theo and his colleague were hiding from my fury. "She had a pressing matter to discuss. Perhaps another compliment on his exceptional cravat tying." I let out a strained laugh as I deflected his attention towards another subject.
To my relief, Charles took the bait. "We have socialised many times with Mr. Bingley's party since their arrival at Netherfield Park, but I have not yet had the chance to witness Miss Bingley's parade. Since that evening at Lucas Lodge, when you entertained us at the pianoforte, she is never to be found within short distance of my person: could I have affronted her without noticing?"
Caroline's shunning was confounding him, and he knitted his brows together when I dismissed his worry. "She does not hold me dear in her heart either."
A pensive pout settled on his face and did not leave it until we neared Netherfield Park.