Chapter 17: Ch 17: To Adlib (2)

Throughout her short idol career, Etoile had always played the lovable airhead. It was grating at first, having to smile and laugh off all those thinly veiled insults. Her manager would constantly tell her to bear with it, and she would. But in only a few months' time, Etoile would find the persona to be her sole source of salvation.

Being a verbal punching bag for a whole two hours? Who cares? 

Pretending to have forgotten her fluffy signature pen almost every signing session? Well, at least they’d always remember to bring their own.

Tripping over nothing as she left the stage? Yeah, Etoile had to admit, that was a bit much. But people seemed to love it regardless.

And she loved them too. For their overwhelming support and encouragement. Etoile really did love making them smile. Sometimes she’d grin to herself, wondering whether she deserved to be spoiled so much, like she was some sort of lucky girl. But in the end, they’d always remain fans first and foremost. Nothing more.

Etoile knew none of that was anyone’s fault. 

Her fans were only there to see her sing and laugh. Not because they wished to know her any better. There was absolutely no reason to show them the timid girl cowering within. The fragile side that Etoile despised so much. After all, putting up fronts in the workplace was the most normal thing in the world. 

These fronts were mostly better versions of oneself whether that was in a situational sense or just generally. Maybe that meant being more extroverted, or perhaps more authoritative, or simply just the person one desired to be. Of course, some people somehow managed to love their ‘true’ selves—whatever that meant—but Etoile knew that those were a dime in a dozen.

Still, people can’t change so easily once they mature. And as much as she wanted to become that airhead who lived life so recklessly, she’d always find herself transforming back into the timid girl on her way home. 

Then she’d steel herself for what was coming next.

Because even behind closed doors, her facades wouldn’t stop. They couldn’t stop. Otherwise, she’d break under the weight of his relentless beatings. If she was a verbal punching bag by daylight, then that would make her a literal one at night. And one obviously hurt much more than the other.

The only person she’d truly ever had in her life was her twin sister, Dolly. Nothing gave Etoile more joy than performing duets together with their virtual avatars and posting them online. That side gig seemed to pay surprisingly well. But even then, their relationship hadn’t always been that smooth.

Gyaaaaahhhh… Being the damsel in distress sucks...

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Trapped several feet under the bedchambers of the ogres she was supposed to be attending, Etoile let out a frustrated sigh. She was helpless then, and helpless now. Being in another world hadn’t changed much.

She needed something to do. Something to convince her that she wasn’t a good-for-nothing pretty girl.

Why does my left arm hurt so much?

Etoile took a glance behind her, scanning the luxurious room and its inhabitants with cautious eyes, before willing the [Soul Menu] into existence. They appeared to be in some sort of jewellery room that was temporarily being used as an emergency bunker. It seemed that they had been tipped off about whatever Dar was doing, and because of that, the whole household had been escorted here: The Chieftain’s wives, maids, children, and other slave girls. Standing vigilantly by the gilded door, was a handful of guards all dressed in decorated tunics. 

Dar told her they would be sneaking in. Looks like that plan went kaput.

He’d also told her not to do anything reckless and call him if there was an emergency. By ‘call’ he’d meant using [Soul Form], something Etoile had discovered after hours of deep diving in the [Soul Menu]. She initially tried to find a way to somehow merge back into Dar's body, before realising that what’s done could not be undone. But that wasn’t to say that deep diving was a complete waste of time.

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