The first thing I noticed was the smell.
Not the smell of my cramped apartment's dusty bookshelves, or the faint burnt coffee scent from my ancient machine that I'd been meaning to replace for five years. No – this smell was sweet. Sickeningly sweet. Like someone had dumped an entire bottle of strawberry-scented glitter glue into a humidifier and cranked it up to full blast.
I wrinkled my nose and forced my eyes open, expecting to see the water stain shaped like a sad cat on my ceiling. Instead, I was staring at a pastel pink canopy dotted with silver stars, each one catching the morning light and sending tiny prisms dancing across the walls. My heart did a weird little flip-flop as I lifted my hand – and froze.
This was not my hand.
My hands were wrinkled around the knuckles, with a small scar on my thumb from when I'd tried to open a can of beans with a butter knife last year. This hand was smooth, pale, and slender – the kind of hand that belonged to someone who'd never had to carry thirty pounds of manuscripts to a publisher's office in the rain. I pushed myself up, my joints popping in a way that was too quiet, and looked down at my body.
I was wearing a white button-down shirt, navy blue pleated skirt, and knee-high socks with little white bows on them. A school uniform.
"Okay, Mianhua," I mumbled to myself, my voice coming out higher and clearer than I was used to. "This is just a dream. You fell asleep while rereading that terrible draft you found in your mom's attic yesterday. Any second now you'll wake up and your back will be killing you from sleeping on the couch."
I swung my legs over the side of the bed – a four-poster bed with a canopy, for god's sake – and my bare feet hit a plush pink rug shaped like a heart. The room was straight out of a tween girl's bedroom catalog: walls painted lavender, a vanity covered in heart-shaped makeup palettes, a bookshelf overflowing with novels with titles like My Vampire Prince is My Soulmate and Love's Eternal Sparkle. And right in the middle of the desk, framed in glittery silver, was a photo.
It was me – or rather, the girl whose body I was in. Long straight black hair cascading over her shoulders, emerald green eyes looking slightly bored at the camera, wearing the same school uniform I had on now. Underneath the photo, in curly pink handwriting, were the words: Xie Mianhua – Age 16 – Future Star!
I blinked hard, grabbed the photo frame, and nearly dropped it when I saw the nameplate on the desk: STARLIGHT ACADEMY – GRADE 10.
Starlight Academy.
Love's Sparkling Galaxy of Hearts.
I felt my stomach drop like a stone in a well. That was the name of the novel I'd written when I was eight years old. The one I'd hidden in a shoebox under my bed for thirty-seven years, only to find it yesterday while helping my mom clean out her attic. The one filled with plot points so ridiculous I'd wanted to burn it the moment I'd read the first line: "Bella's hair sparkled like a thousand diamonds as she walked through the halls of Starlight Academy, her ruby red eyes making every boy's heart skip a beat."
I scrambled to my feet and stumbled to the vanity, gripping the edge of the counter as I stared at my reflection. Same face as the photo – same black hair, same green eyes. But the expression looking back at me was pure panic, not the quiet boredom from the picture. I ran my hands over my hair, then my face, then my neck – everything felt real. The smooth skin, the way my hair slid through my fingers, the slight tremor in my hands as I reached for the door handle.
"Mianhua! Honey, are you awake?" A woman's voice called from downstairs, followed by the clatter of what sounded like a dozen plates being set on a table. "Breakfast is ready! You don't want to be late for your first day back after sick leave!"
Sick leave? I wracked my brain – or rather, I tried to wrack this girl's brain. Fragments of memories floated to the surface: a fever, staying home for three days, Bella bringing her homework and talking nonstop about the new transfer student who'd just joined the basketball team. Bella. Bai Xingyao. The female lead of my novel.
I opened the door and stumbled down a staircase lined with family photos – all of them featuring me and a woman with warm brown eyes and curly hair who had to be my mom here, plus a younger girl who looked exactly like how I'd described Bella: blonde hair, red eyes, and a smile that looked like it could power a small city. My hands were shaking so much I had to hold onto the banister just to keep from tripping.
When I walked into the dining room, the first thing I saw was her.
Bella was sitting at the table, her hair cascading over her shoulders in perfect waves that did actually sparkle in the morning light. She was wearing the same Starlight Academy uniform, but hers was pressed so neatly you could see every single pleat in her skirt. She looked up as I walked in, and her face broke into that exact smile I'd written about – the one I'd described as "like sunshine wrapped in glitter."
"Mianhua! You're awake!" She jumped up and threw her arms around me, nearly knocking me over. "I was so worried about you! You had such a high fever – I thought you'd miss the start of the new semester! And guess what? Jay is back from his summer training camp and he's even taller than before – I swear he grew like three inches!"
Jay. Zhou Yuchen. The second male lead. The one I'd written as "the perfect boy every girl wants but can't have." I patted Bella's back awkwardly, trying not to flinch at how much glitter was coming off her hair and onto my shirt.
"Thanks, Bella," I managed to say, my voice still feeling foreign in my throat. "I'm… feeling better now."
"Thank goodness!" My mom – this world's mom – set a plate down in front of me, and I nearly choked. It was a stack of pancakes shaped like hearts, covered in pink syrup and rainbow sprinkles. "I made your favorite! You always say heart-shaped pancakes make everything better!"
Right. Because eight-year-old me had thought that "every extra character needs a cute quirk to make them memorable." I'd given Mianhua a love of heart-shaped food, then promptly forgotten about her for the rest of the novel. She was supposed to be nothing more than background noise – a girl who stood by the window in the library and looked thoughtful while Bella and the male lead had their first conversation.
I sat down and stared at the pancakes, trying to figure out how to make sense of this. Did I really die and get reincarnated into my own terrible novel? Did I hit my head and slip into a coma? Or was I actually going crazy from years of rejection letters and writing about sparkly hair?
"Earth to Mianhua!" Bella waved a fork in front of my face, her red eyes wide with concern. "Are you still feeling sick? You're acting weirder than usual – and that's saying something, since you normally just sit there and read those boring old books of yours."
Boring old books. Right. I'd written Mianhua as a quiet bookworm who liked "classic literature no one else understood" – which was code for "I didn't know what else to write so I just made her read stuff I'd heard my parents talk about." I picked up my fork and took a small bite of pancake. It was sickeningly sweet, but I forced myself to chew and swallow.
"I'm fine," I said, trying to sound casual. "Just… thinking about school. What's new? Besides Jay being taller."
"Oh, you wouldn't believe it!" Bella practically vibrated in her seat, and I could see exactly why I'd written her as the female lead – she had more energy than a caffeinated squirrel. "The new transfer student is amazing! His name is Lu Zihang but everyone calls him Shadow – I know, cool right? – and he just joined the parkour club and he can climb anything! Plus he has the most gorgeous purple eyes – I swear they glow when he's in the sun!"
Shadow. Lu Zihang. The male lead. The one I'd based on a mailman who'd given me extra stickers when I was eight because I'd told him I wanted to be a writer. I'd given him purple eyes because he'd been wearing purple gloves that day, and named him Shadow because a black cat had crossed the street while I was writing his first scene. I'd spent three whole pages describing his "mysterious aura" and "brooding smile that made girls faint."
I felt a headache coming on. "That's… interesting. Have you talked to him yet?"
"Not yet," Bella said, looking down at her plate and blushing – exactly like I'd written she would. "But I will! I just need to find the right moment. Oh! And my brother Gray is back from his summer internship – he's been asking about you, by the way. He said he missed your 'weird but smart' comments."
Gray. Fu Yanshu. Bella's older brother. The one I'd written as a minor character who just "glared a lot and protected his sister." I'd given him silver-gray hair because I'd seen a character with gray hair in an anime once, and a scar on his left hand because I'd thought "scarred older brothers are cool." I'd completely forgotten about him until this moment.
"I should probably talk to him too," I mumbled, pushing my pancakes around on my plate. The idea of having to interact with characters I'd created as a child was making me feel more and more lightheaded. "When do we need to leave for school?"
"Ten minutes!" My mom checked her watch and then started packing a lunch box – shaped like a heart, of course. "I made you two extra sandwiches – you know how hungry you get during third period. And Mianhua? Try to smile a little today, okay? You've been so serious lately – even more than usual!"
I forced a smile and stood up, my legs feeling wobbly. Ten minutes until I had to walk into Starlight Academy – a place I'd made up in my head when I was still learning how to spell "romance." Ten minutes until I had to face characters I'd written with nothing but a box of crayons and a wild imagination. Ten minutes until I had to figure out how to survive in a world where glitter was apparently a staple in every girl's hair routine.
As I followed Bella out to the front door, she turned to me with that sparkling smile of hers and said exactly what I'd written she would say on page seventeen of my draft: "This is going to be the best semester ever! I can feel it in my heart – and in my sparkly hair!"
I looked down at my hands, then at Bella's glitter-covered shoulders, then at the street sign outside that read "Galaxy of Hearts Avenue" – a name I'd thought was "super romantic" when I was eight.
This wasn't a dream. I was really here. In my own terrible novel. As an extra character who liked heart-shaped pancakes and was supposed to fade into the background.
"Mianhua! Come on!" Bella called, already halfway down the street, her hair catching the sun and sending glitter flying everywhere. "We don't want to be late for the big announcement – they're saying someone important is coming to visit today!"
I took a deep breath, adjusted my uniform, and followed her down the street. Whatever was waiting for me at Starlight Academy, I knew one thing for sure: eight-year-old me had a lot to answer for. And if I was stuck here, I was going to have to find a way to make this ridiculous story work – even if it meant dealing with sparkly hair, heart-shaped everything, and a male lead based on a mailman who liked purple gloves.
Every extra deserves a complete story, I thought to myself as I walked. Even if I have to write it myself.