The ceiling had exactly 247 tiles.
Emily knew because she'd counted them approximately eight billion times over the past three years. Tonight, tile number 163 had developed a new crack that looked vaguely like a middle finger, which felt rather appropriate given her current mood.
Pop. Pop-pop.
Outside, the first tentative fireworks of New Year's Eve stuttered across the darkening sky. Testing, testing, one, two, three, people around the city making sure the grand finale wouldn't be a dud. Emily reached for her phone with the caution of someone who'd knocked over one too many water cups over the years.
Yep. No messages.
No "Happy New Year!" texts.
No "thinking of you" emoji chains.
Nothing.
[Well... that's depressing.]
She couldn't blame them, really. Who wanted their New Year's Eve vibes murdered by the seventeen-year-old decaying toothpick? She was basically the human equivalent of that one friend who trauma-dumps at parties. Except she couldn't even go to parties. Or stand. Or eat solid food without—
"Knock knock, gorgeous!"
The door burst open and Nurse Jessie swept in, bringing the scent of antiseptic and the expensive vanilla perfume she definitely wasn't supposed to wear on shift. At thirty-two, Jessie had the kind of curves that made hospital scrubs look like a war crime against humanity.
Emily blinked twice, shaking her head.
"Let me guess," Emily drawled, setting her phone aside. "Time for the highlight of my evening: having my blood pressure taken."
"Indeed it is," Jessie smiled, wheeling the vitals cart closer. "So, how's my favorite heartbreaker doing tonight?"
"Oh, you know. Living the dream. Perfecting my bedroom eyes for the next pretty nurse that comes in." Emily demonstrated with an exaggerated smolder. "Very important skill for the perpetually horizontal."
"And here I thought you were going to use them on me."
"Do I need to at this point?" Emily wriggled her brows.
Jessie laughed, that throaty sound that always made Emily's monitor skip, and started wrapping the blood pressure cuff around Emily's arm.
"Someone's feeling confident tonight."
"Always am when you're here." Emily tilted her head, studying Jessie through her lashes. "Though I have to wonder why my favorite nurse is working New Year's Eve. No hot date? No champagne-soaked party where you scandalize the guests with that dress I know you own?"
"Which dress?" Jessie's eyes sparkled dangerously.
"The red one. Backless. That dip in the front that makes priests reconsider their vows." Emily's voice dropped to honey. "The one you wore to the hospital fundraiser that made Dr. Harrison walk into a wall."
Jessie's cheeks flushed pink.
"How do you even know about that?"
"Please. I have spies everywhere. This bed might be my prison, but information?" Emily tapped her temple. "Information flows to those who know how to listen. And Jessie, darling, when you walk by in that dress, everyone talks."
"You're terrible." But Jessie was grinning, pumping the blood pressure bulb with perhaps more vigor than necessary.
"I prefer 'strategically wicked.'" Emily winced at the pressure. "Ow. Ahem, speaking of which, you didn't answer my question. Why are you here instead of breaking hearts across the city?"
Jessie smiled warmly at Emily.
"Maybe I wanted to be here."
Emily rolled her eyes.
"Jessie—"
"Aha, your blood pressure's elevated suddenly." Jessie turned her voice professional all of a sudden. "Pulse too."
"Can you blame me?" Emily kept her tone light, but her eyes stayed serious. "Beautiful woman confessing she chose me over champagne? My poor heart can't handle such declarations. You should have just gone to have fun!"
"That's the part that sounds exciting and fun to you about parties? Champagne?"
"Well," Emily's eyes went half-lidded. She grinned. "Nothing else at any party would be as exciting as hanging out with you. Except maybe when we leave the party and spend the night together."
"Emily!" Jessie gave Emily a feather-light smack on her wrist. "You're outrageous today!"
"It's your fault for being so cute when you blush."
"I am not blushing!" But she absolutely was, her cheeks pink as she fumbled with her stethoscope. "This is just... medical flush. From all the walking."
"Medical flush?" Emily's grin widened. "Is that what we're calling it? Should I be concerned? Do you need to sit down? I can scoot over—"
"Your heart sounds fine," Jessie interrupted, pressing the cold metal to Emily's chest with perhaps more force than necessary. "Annoyingly healthy for someone so impossible."
"See? I told you I was in peak flirting condition."
"That's what worries me." Jessie finished her examination with a dramatic sigh. "At this rate, I'll have to start warning the other nurses. 'Danger: Patient in Room 247. Approach with caution. Do not make direct eye contact.'"
The thing about being trapped in a hospital bed for three years? You either became bitter or you became brilliant.
Emily chose brilliant. Specifically, brilliantly manipulative. When your body couldn't move, couldn't dance, couldn't even feed itself properly, you learned to make your words do all the heavy lifting. Every nurse became target practice. Every doctor, a chance to refine her technique. She'd learned exactly how long to hold eye contact before it became a promise, exactly when to drop her voice to make someone lean closer, exactly which compliments made people blush versus which made them bold. Three years of captive audiences who couldn't escape her charm offensive without violating their Hippocratic oath.
Or, at least, that had been her intent. Most of the staff probably just viewed her as "that charming kid that talks funny", but no, in Emily's mind? She was turning her mouth into a weapon.
Cause, well, literally what else could she do?
"Too late. Sarah from pediatrics already fell victim last week." Emily wiggled her fingers like a cartoon villain. "Soon, my empire of flustered medical professionals will be complete."
"Sarah? The one with the—" Jessie gestured vaguely at her chest.
"The very same. Turns out she likes poetry. Who knew?"
"You wrote her poetry?" Jessie's voice pitched up. "Emily!"
"Just a haiku! Very tasteful. Only mentioned her assets twice."
"TWICE?"
"Once per asset." Emily grinned wickedly. "I'm nothing if not fair."
Jessie threw a cotton ball at her. Emily dodged. Well, turned her head slightly, which was basically the same thing when you couldn't move much.
"Speaking of which," Emily said, nodding toward her tablet. "Want to see my other collection of beautiful women? These ones can't even file HR complaints."
"Your game?" Jessie perched on the bed's edge, strictly against protocol as always. "The one you're obsessed with?"
"Queen of Hearts, yes. And I prefer 'passionately devoted.'" Emily grabbed her tablet, the loading screen already making her heart race. "Tonight's the night. The impossible run. Twelve love interests, zero jealousy triggers, one Demon Empress about to get her ass handed to her by the power of love and lots and lots of grinding."
"Twelve?" Jessie leaned closer, her perfume making Emily's brain stutter. "You're such a player."
"Digital player. Very different. Look—" Emily showed her the party screen. "That's Lady Vyrelle, the sophisticated duchess with the... impressive resume. Princess Talia, tsundere supreme who called me a 'worthless cur' forty-seven times before confessing. Scarlett the knight, who could bench press me with her pinky—"
"Is that your type?" Jessie raised a brow, smirking. "Women who could kill you?"
"I'm in a hospital bed. Everyone could kill me. Might as well make it sexy."
Jessie laughed, bumping Emily's shoulder.
"Well, that's that." Jessie suddenly announced, standing up and heading for the door. Just like that, the highlight of Emily's day was in the past. She hadn't been lying about that at all.
"Try not to seduce too many fictional nobles before midnight, heartbreaker. Save some stuff to do in the game for next year!"
"Yeah, I'll try."
The door clicked shut.
Emily stared at it for a solid thirty seconds before reaching for her tablet. The loading screen of Queen of Hearts bloomed to life. Roses and golden filigree around portraits of beautiful people in elaborate costumes. She'd seen it thousands of times, but it still made her heart race.
[Alright, ladies. Time to save the world together... Again.]
Her party stood ready in the Demon Empress's throne room. Outside, the fireworks crescendoed. Her clock showed 11:58. The Demon Empress's health bar appeared.
This was it. Hundreds of hours of perfectly balanced relationship management, all for this moment.
Emily's fingers flew across the screen. Vyrelle cast Greater Dispel to strip the boss's defenses. Talia activated Divine Blade. Scarlett—
11:59.
Emily briefly glanced outside. The Demon Empress's second phase triggered. Emily had expected this. She'd studied every guide, memorized every pattern. Her healers were ready, her damage dealers positioned perfectly. The boss's ultimate attack charged up just as—
The world exploded in light and sound.
Not from the game. From outside. From everywhere.
Midnight. New Year's. The grand finale.
And inside Emily's chest, something finally gave up.
[Oh.]
Her eyes widened.
The tablet slipped from nerveless fingers. On screen, the Demon Empress's health bar drained to zero just as Emily's vision began to fade. Victory fanfare played tinnily from the speakers, drowned out by the thunderous celebration outside.
Achievement Unlocked: True Sovereign - Unite All Hearts, Save The World
[Wait.]
Emily wasn't done. She didn't want to be done, more specifically.
As the fireworks reached deafening heights, her body got heavier and heavier.
"Hold-" she coughed.
[Hold on,] she continued internally, unable to say it as her mouth didn't work. [I want one more...]
As the game's credits skipped, she ended up back in the main menu.
New Game and Continue stared at her almost tauntingly.
[I...]
What did she want? What...
Emily grabbed her phone.
[I want one more playthrough.]
And so, she tapped New Game yet again.
Before her body finally gave out.