(Summary of Chapter 5 in case you decided to skip:
After parting ways with a companion named Smoke, Snowe visits her mentor, Mr. Qon Ark, who delivers unexpected news: a prestigious music company is interested in her. Despite his warm words, a sense of unease builds as Ark's behavior turns predatory. He uses his influence and control over her housing, career, and safety to manipulate and intimidate her, ultimately assaulting her.
Powerless to fight back due to his metal-based abilities and political status, Snowe is trapped in a horrifying situation. As Ark continues his abuse, she suddenly finds herself teleported to Earth, wounded, traumatized, but finally away from him. Desperate to blend in and find help, she disguises her alien nature, hoping for safety and a chance at healing among strangers.)
I crawled toward the house, dragging my limp leg behind me. Screaming crossed my mind, but that'd only attract attention—and not the kind I need. I'm on Earth, and once they realize what I am... well, let's just say it's a coin toss how that ends.
At the back porch, I gritted my teeth and used my arms to pull myself up the stairs. I was running on pure desperation. Once I made it to the top, I leaned against the door and shouted, just loud enough:
"Is anyone home? I need help! Please!"
It took about thirty seconds before the door creaked open, and I collapsed inside.
Standing above me was a man. No, not just a man. He was beautiful. As beautiful as Smoke. I didn't think that was possible.He had three beauty marks—one beneath each eye, and one between his eyebrows. His turquoise eyes stood out against his light caramel skin, framed by dark brown waves that ended just above his shoulders.
"What the heck happened to you?" he asked, unbothered.
Oh crap, he sounds unsympathetic and he's already asking questions!
"I... was sexually assaulted and tied up."I hated admitting that to a stranger. But how else could I explain this? I need a hospital—my joint is dislocated, and even my accelerated healing can't fix that.
He sighed, bent down, and without another word, lifted me into his arms. He carried me into the house and dropped me onto a couch like I was nothing more than a sack of flour.
"Ow! I'm injured!" I cried, but he just walked away.
I took deep breaths, trying to manage the pain. About twenty minutes later, he returned with a paper bag, crouched beside me, examined my leg, then popped the joint back into place.
I screamed. The pain was blinding. But then came the relief. He placed an ice pack on my lap and left the room again.
I lay still for a while. Eventually, curiosity won. I sat up and looked around. The house was huge—open layout, gleaming hardwood floors, and a spiral staircase. I love spiral stairs...
He must be rich, I thought. But there were no staff or signs of anyone else living here.
About an hour later, he came back downstairs. Now in a robe and grey sweatpants—no shirt. I quickly looked away. But I saw enough to know: he works out. A black tattoo of flames curled over the right side of his chest, just barely visible under the robe.
"You're still here?" he asked flatly.
I wanted to say, I have nowhere else to go, but I couldn't risk being that vulnerable again. Not yet.
"I just wanted to thank you. And... I'm still having trouble walking," I said instead. A half-lie. I'm mostly healed, but he doesn't need to know that. How long do humans take to recover anyway? A few days?
"Then thank me."
His bluntness made me laugh a little. He pouted at my reaction.
"Thank you," I said after the giggle passed.
"What's your name?" he asked, heading into the open kitchen. He grabbed a carton of orange juice from the fridge and drank straight from it.
"Snowe," I replied.
He glanced over. "Like Snow White or something?"
I tilted my head. Snow... White? A celebrity?
"No... it was snowing when I was born," I said—half-true again.
For the first time since we met, he smiled.
"My name's Raijian, but you can call me RJ. Or Jey. Even Rai. I don't care."
Raijian... That's a name I know. Semi-common on Infaniya for those who choose Fire. It means "Fueled by Fire."
"Oh... thank you, RJ, for everything. Once I'm fully recovered, I'll leave."
Technically, I could leave now. But I have no ID, no Earth currency, and no idea where I am. I need time.
"Do you... have a computer I can use? I need to contact my family. My phone was stolen."
"You don't want to use a phone?" he asked.
"I don't know any numbers by heart," I said, which was true. Why memorize when I always have my phone?
He sighed, slammed the fridge door a little harder than necessary, and left. A few minutes later, he returned with a laptop.
"Here. Don't worry about giving it back. You can keep it. I never use it."
I gasped. He shoved it into my hands and yelled, "I'm going to bed now. Bye!" Then slammed his door.
Still... he gave me a gift. He let me stay.Am I wrong to think he might be kind-hearted?
Probably. I need to stop letting my guard down.
The laptop was sleek and thin, lighter than anything I'd used before. The screen was sharp and vibrant. It even opened to a "New User Registration" screen. Maybe he really never used it.
I finished setting up an account and connected to the internet. That's when I saw it.
"3117... not 3017?!"A hundred years had passed?
Panic surged through me. I searched news articles and found events involving my people—things I'd never heard of. I stay current. I would've known.This confirms it: I've lost a century.
RJ emerged, groggy.
"Why the f**k are you screaming?"Then he saw my face. I was crying. His tone softened.
"What's wrong?"
I quickly wiped my eyes."Oh... uh, nothing. I'm just so happy you gave me this laptop! The quality is amazing!" I forced a smile.
He frowned. "You yelled the year."
I laughed nervously.
"Were you locked up for a hundred years?" he asked, eyes narrowing.
"What?! Of course not! Do I look a hundred to you?" I joked.
He sighed. "I know you're an Infaniyan. You don't have to hide it. Just answer the question."
He sounded frustrated—but I could tell he cared.
"I... no. I don't know what happened. I was assaulted, then suddenly... I'd lost a hundred years. Everything is just... gone."All I remember is fear—my brain screaming to run. That crushing instinct to escape.
"I'm only nineteen," I added.
"...Me too."
He sat in silence for a long time."That must be... hard," he finally said.
I was going to contact the Infaniyan Identification Corporation. They could confirm my identity, help me get home. But I couldn't focus through the emotional fog.
"Do you want to be alone?" he asked.
"No," I whispered.
He groaned like he wasn't thrilled with the answer—but he stayed. Quiet. With me.Until I fell asleep.
I woke up alone, face down, drooling on the couch. A fleece blanket had been thrown over me.
He's more considerate than he lets on.
"Good morning," RJ said from the kitchen. "Tea or coffee?"
"Tea."
He pulled out multiple boxes and yelled out the names. I chose green tea.
"Your hair turns white when you sleep," he said casually.
I gasped. I wasn't used to hiding my powers. Of course, I'd mess it up.
"I like it. The white suits you," he added.
He handed me a warm mug—sweetened with honey—and sat beside me with his black coffee.He quietly scrolled through his phone, reading the news. No small talk. No rush to leave.
Was he staying now just because I said I didn't want to be alone?
"Thank you!" I suddenly remembered his compliment. My delayed reaction made him laugh.
"You're such a weirdo, aren't you, Snowe?"
I pouted and didn't respond. Instead, I placed my tea down and submitted a request to reinstate my identity—and find a way home.
Thirty minutes later, I got a reply.
"The Infaniyan Snowe S. Stratus is deceased. Any further attempt to use this identity will be dealt with accordingly, to the full extent of the law."