A Fujoshi 'S Dream

A Fujoshi 'S Dream

Chapter 1 - Shattered heart

The scent of grilled bread and sizzling oil filled the small restaurant where Lucia worked. She moved quickly between tables, her cheerful smile never fading, even though her life was far from easy. Orphaned at a young age, she had learned to carry her pain behind a bright mask. Her customers liked her energy, her laugh, and the way she treated everyone with warmth.

But that smile broke the moment her eyes caught sight of him.

At table four sat Karl, the man she once believed was her destiny. He wasn’t alone. A girl with glossy black hair clung to his arm, whispering into his ear before kissing him boldly on the lips. The same girl Lucia had caught him with not long ago.

Her chest tightened, her tray shook in her hands. Karl’s words echoed in her head: “I’ll never leave you, Lucia. You’re my destiny.” And yet here he was, proving that those words had been nothing but lies.

“Lucia!” Her manager’s sharp voice jolted her. “Serve that table. They’re VIP guests. And don’t you dare mess this up.”

Her heart sank. Of all the tables… why theirs?

With trembling hands, she approached, forcing her eyes to stay on the tray instead of Karl. But the girl—Maria—looked her up and down with a sneer. “Oh, isn’t this pathetic? The little waitress who thinks she’s good enough. Still chasing after men with money, huh? Gold digger.”

Lucia’s lips pressed into a thin line. She said nothing, only placing the glasses of water on the table.

Maria wasn’t done. She leaned closer, her voice dripping with venom. “Look at you, standing there like some stray mutt. An orphan girl pretending to be worth something. You’re nothing, Lucia. Nothing.”

That word—orphan—stabbed deeper than all the others. Lucia’s hand trembled, then before she realized it, her palm struck Maria’s cheek. The slap echoed through the restaurant.

Gasps filled the room.

Karl shot to his feet. For one brief second, Lucia hoped—hoped he would defend her. Instead, his hand came crashing down against her face.

“You’re garbage, Lucia,” he spat, his eyes full of contempt. “Don’t you dare show your face here again.”

Her manager stormed over, red with fury. “You’re fired! Get out!”

The tray slipped from her fingers and clattered to the floor. With tears blurring her vision, Lucia turned and ran—out of the restaurant, down the cold streets—until her legs carried her to the only place that ever gave her peace: the bookstore.

She stumbled inside, the warm scent of paper and ink wrapping around her. Her hands reached for a familiar shelf, pulling out a BL novel. Clutching it to her chest, she collapsed into a corner.

Her tears spilled freely, soaking the pages as she whispered, “Why is it so easy to be loved in stories, but so hard in real life? Why can’t I have someone who loves me… truly loves me?”

Her voice broke. Exhaustion weighed down on her, and as she cried herself to sleep with the book still open in her hands, one last wish escaped her lips:

“I want to live in a world where love is real… where someone loves me too.”

And with that, the world faded into darkness.

 

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