The Incredibly Consequential Life of Charlie Zappala

Chapter Seven: Tales of Desper-ate to get out of here

Charlie continued on without reading the room, internal thoughts mounting louder than external glances. "I mean, I probably should go home. Like, I have work tomorrow and I already showed up late twice this week so I really have to make sure I make a good impression on Friday or I'm going to be in trouble. Again. Also, my roommates might be worried about me. Maybe. I'm not quite sure they're going to notice."

"Oh," the word barely left her lips. "So you wish to leave."

Charlie felt the guilt creeping in. "Wait, no, it's not like I don't want to help you or be your Chosen One or whatever." Even though they definitely didn't. "I just have a life back home that I can't really leave unexpectedly." A life was stretching it, but hey, something's better than nothing. "It all sounds fun and great, but you're always gonna have to face the music and get back to real life at some point, right?"

Althea's gaze narrowed at that. "May I ask what gives you the impression that this is not a real life? Do you not think me to be tangible? Would your face carved onto some other service be more permanent for you?"

They had to resist the tendon of doubt that had been nonstop tweaking at the pit of their gut. "No, I mean—there's no easy way to explain this, but where I come from, the more boring and the more insignificant you are, the more real everything is. I would love to be able to break that down in a way I've already worked through in therapy, but I don't have the time or the mental capacity right now. I really should be getting back before anything else unravels."

"I apologize." She bowed her head, immediately backpedaling her prior statement. "I only thought that you would have been able to come here with no strings attached."

"I wish," they scoffed. "But no, things are a little more complicated than that."

She nodded, folding her hands in front of her. "Would you ever return?"

Charlie's throat tightened. "Uh, yeah," their voice cracked. "You know what, whenever you need me I'll be your Chosen One or whatever." Why the fuck not. Nothing else around here was making any sense to them. "You're just going to have to pick me up, though. I can't really create wormholes in my refrigerator yet."

Her face lit up. "Sincerely?"

"Like the end of a letter," they nodded.

"If only you could understand how much that means to me. To all of us," she let out a breathy sigh. "Oh, thank you so much."

Charlie's eyes broke contact, unsure of how to receive such gratitude. "Uh, no problem. Now, uh, can you direct me to the nearest exit?"

She clapped her hands together. "I'll summon the herald."

"Allow me to, your highness," offered Sabbas, who had been awkwardly standing just off to the side the entire time. "You escort the young hero to the departure."

Althea bowed her head. "Thank you for your help today, Sabbas. It is greatly appreciated." She turned to Charlie. "Shall we go?"

They gestured toward the exit. "Lead the way."

The two left the lower level gallery and continued down the castle corridors. The scenery in this corner gargantuan building followed the same design as the other floors: large, sunlit and golden. Austentatious in the way it didn't have to be, but never intimidating. It gave Charlie flashbacks of their childhood mall.

Charlie and Althea ascended another flight of spiral steps and walked until they both stopped at a pair of double doors, taller than the door to Charlie's apartment bathroom but smaller than most other entryways in the larger-than-life palace. Carefully crafted dark wood gave the entrance an air of respect without being showy. Althea knocked twice before entering.