Chapter 381: Chapter 381 : Fatty

Cool night air hit Alex’s face like a blessing as they walked away from the horror house ruins. Behind them, the structure sat in chaotic silence—broken walls gaping open, exposed wiring sparking faintly, a cluster of very confused actors being herded away by frantic staff yelling into radios.

Alex didn’t look back.

Alicia did.

Then she burst out laughing again, holding her stomach. “Oh my god. You actually destroyed it.”

“I panicked,” Alex muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “I thought something was about to jump out.”

“You screamed,” she said cheerfully. “Then you punched and destroyed the building itself.”

He sighed. “Please don’t tell people about it. Absolutely not Alden and Lily.”

She bumped her shoulder into his playfully. “No promises.”

They reached the parking lot. Alex glanced at her sideways.

“So,” he said, trying to sound casual, “what now?”

She stopped walking.

Turned to face him fully.

Her eyes sparkled with mischief under the streetlights.

“Bowling.”

He blinked. “Bowling?”

“Yep.” She pointed ahead to the glowing sign across the plaza. The crash of pins echoed faintly through the open doors, laughter and upbeat music spilling out. “We’re clearly terrible with horror. Let’s do something fun.”

Alex narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “You just want another excuse to bully me.”

She smiled sweetly, batting her lashes. “Absolutely.”

He huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “Fine. Lead the way.”

—

The bowling alley was loud and warm, a vibrant contrast to the horror house—a hive of neon lights, thumping pop music, groups of friends cheering each other’s turns, the comforting thunder of pins exploding apart. Lanes stretched out in rows, shoes clacking on polished wood, scoreboards glowing brightly overhead.

Alex sat on the plastic bench, lacing up rented shoes, trying to ignore the growing sense of dread as the scoreboard lit up above their lane.

Alicia: 173

Alex: 62

Alex stared at it.

Long.

Hard.

“…It’s the ball, yeah, definitely the ball,” he said finally. “It’s rigged.”

Alicia leaned back against the ball return, sipping her fizzy drink through a striped straw. “You said that after your third gutter.”

“That one slipped.”

“And how the hell are you so good at this?” Alex demanded. “Did you play this your whole life?”

Alicia smirked. “What can I say? I’m a genius, after all.”

Alex’s eye twitched. She was using his own line against him.

Alicia rolled her shoulders loosely, grabbed another heavy ball with easy confidence, and stepped up to the foul line. Her form was perfect—smooth approach, wrist snap, release.

Strike.

Pins exploded apart in a perfect scatter.

The machine reset with a clatter.

Alex groaned and let his head fall back against the wall. “I hate today.”

She laughed and sat beside him, their shoulders brushing warmly. “Hey. You survived. That’s something.”

“I lost,” he said quietly. “Miserably.”

She looked at him for a moment—no teasing this time, just soft understanding.

Then she leaned in close.

Soft hands cupped his face gently.

She kissed him.

Quick.

Gentle.

Warm, tasting faintly of cherry soda.

When she pulled back, she smiled. “Consolation prize.”

Alex blinked, still processing, cheeks warm. “…You’re evil.”

She grinned brighter. “And you’re still losing.”

He squeezed her hand, thumb tracing her knuckles. “…Worth it.”

She smiled wider, leaning her head on his shoulder for a moment.

They played bowling to their hearts’ content—more games, more strikes for her, more gutters and spares for him, laughter echoing louder each time.

—

After bowling, Alex took her to the most expensive seven-star restaurant in all of Avaloria, windows offering panoramic views of the glittering city below.

He had booked the entire place—no other guests, just the two of them under crystal chandeliers and soft orchestral music.

The staff welcomed them grandly, lined up in crisp uniforms, bowing in unison as they entered the opulent lobby with marble floors and gold accents.

The owner himself came running, nervous sweat beading on his forehead, and showed them to their private table by the massive floor-to-ceiling window. Candles flickered, rose petals scattered delicately.

Alex patted him on the back reassuringly. “Relax. We won’t bite, you know.”

Alicia laughed lightly, and the owner started laughing with them, tension easing.

The owner clapped sharply.

Staff came running with trays of their best dishes—delicate amuse-bouches, foie gras, truffle-infused risottos, seared scallops.

The manager arrived with lightning speed, a thick menu in hand, describing each best dish in enthusiastic detail: lobster thermidor flown in fresh, wagyu steaks aged to perfection, molecular gastronomy desserts that looked like art.

“What do you want, honey?” Alex asked Alicia.

She scanned playfully. “Let’s eat fried chicken.”

“No,” Alex said firmly. “I have heard your mother repeatedly complain about you eating fast food and gaining… weight.”

Alicia’s mouth twitched.

She hmphed, looking away from him. “A little won’t hurt.”

Suddenly she looked toward Alex, eyes narrowing. “Besides, you won’t lose interest in me… just because I become fat, right?”

Alex looked away, stammering. “Of… of course… not.”

“Why were you stammering just now?” Alicia said.

“Nothing,” Alex replied.

Alicia’s face darkened. “Alex. Look me in the eye… and say it.”

“If you don’t, those beautiful eyes of yours that you’re so proud of—I might just gouge them out and give them to the hotel staff to cook and eat, savoring every bit of the taste.”

The manager, owner, and Alex froze.

Chills ran down their spines at her words.

The manager and owner exchanged terrified glances, mumbled something about “remembering something important,” and bolted.

The manager called back weakly, “Please decide what you want to eat! I’ll send a waiter!”

He looked toward Alex and said, “Sir, please stay alive. We don’t cook humans… but we may have to make an exception if it’s her.”

Then he bolted too.

Now alone, Alex took a huge gulp.

He met her eyes steadily. “Of course I’ll love you no matter your size or weight. You’re perfect to me—beautiful inside and out, strong, kind, the one who makes every day brighter. Curves or not, you’re my fatty, my queen, my everything. I’d choose you a thousand times over anyone else.”

Alicia’s expression softened, eyes shining. “You’re such a lucky guy, aren’t you, Alex?”

“Of course I am,” he said, nodding his head repeatedly.

After that, they ordered fried chicken—crispy, golden, served with gourmet sides.

Alicia ate it to her heart’s content, savoring every bite.

Alex wiped her mouth gently with a napkin when sauce got on it.

The atmosphere around them became holy and peaceful—candlelight dancing, city lights twinkling below, soft music wrapping them like a blanket.

Alicia wouldn’t let Alex touch her food.

He had to order something else—a steak, which he ate while watching her happy expression.

’ I’m really gonna miss my fatty, after leaving for the tower ’ he thought.

’Well, it can’t be helped.’

Alicia stopped eating suddenly, meeting his gaze. “Don’t worry. Everything will be alright. I’m never gonna forget you, and I’ll never leave you alone—even if you run to hell itself. So be prepared.”

Alex started laughing out loud, reaching over to pinch her cheeks. “I’m really gonna miss you, my fatty.”

Alicia smiled. “Of course you will.”

She added with dramatic flair, “What can I say? I’m a beauty and a genius never seen before, after all.”

Alex’s eyes widened in surprise at her mimicking his line perfectly.

They both burst out laughing, the sound filling the empty restaurant.

After eating to their hearts’ content, they left the restaurant.

As they drove in the Ferrari under the stars, suddenly Alicia told him to stop in front of a shop.

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