Realistic or Modern 𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐈𝐍 𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑

[triples]

 

[ravensunset]

time loop victim

aysel.

Aysel woke up on a soft mattress under white sheets, again. Rays of morning sun pushed through the curtains; they hadn’t spared expenses on the hotel, thankfully. She stretched out her hand to reach her phone on the nightstand. Aysel was still blinking away remnants of sleep and foggy dreams, but as far as she remembered, her morning was clear, and the bed was much too comfortable to rush waking up.

The phone buzzed in her hands, almost causing her to drop it. Lunch meeting. 1 hour, the notification read out at her, and Aysel blinked at it in confusion. They’d already had that. Yesterday. Had she set an alarm on the wrong day by accident? Aysel tried to remember if she’d set up a secondary appointment, if there was anything else going on. In either case, the day couldn’t go wholly to waste, which was enough to ensure she was awake.

She must have accidentally, last evening, placed yesterday’s top back into her unworn clothes. She tossed it aside while picking out the day’s outfit. Aysel made a face at the mirror perched on a drawer, pulling her hair back into a ponytail, and mentally running through the points of discussion she needed to clear today.

The hallway stretched out in front of her, the start of what should have been a lovely vacation day soured by the reminder of yesterday’s lunch. She wanted nothing less than to have to deal with Ravi again after it, but unfortunately, that wasn’t in the job description.

“Raphael,”

Aysel said as she knocked on the door, because she knew he’d hate it, and because there was no chance he was getting to stay in bed any longer than she was,

“Aren’t you up yet? We needed to talk, remember?”

Aysel leaned back against the wall next to his door, let out a sigh, and tried to remind herself that she was, overall, happy to be on this job. Maybe she could pull him out to a breakfast cafe to make up for the trouble.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[triples]

scroll

still dreaming

ravi.

He felt like he hadn't slept.

He knew he must've. Deeply, even. He had woken up long after sunrise, still as a corpse and eerily free of dreams. But, as he leaned into the sofa's cool leather embrace, his gaze was far and his mind was blank — and nothing he did could quite regain their focus.

The sleek desk across the room stared just as emptily back at him. He wondered briefly when he'd put away the laptop left charging on it the night before. Or when he'd washed the cup in the sink, or put the slippers neatly back in their place, or thrown the top page of that notepad away.

A novel sat abandoned beside him, open to where it was marked by a neon sticker — a habit formed years ago, to keep track of his last read page. He never failed to move it whenever he put a volume down; that little sticky note, to its new correct page. Never, until now. Now the note was stuck on a section he'd long read past. Ravi felt like it was mocking him. Reaching a lazy hand out, he closed the book shut, unmotivated to spare it even another glance.

Maybe he was finally losing it.

The warmth of the sunlight, pressed softly against the drawn curtains, almost disguised the chill in the hotel room. Even he couldn't pinpoint why he was sunk in this terrible mood today. Was it the new environment? The building pressure? His fight with Aysel?

The message?

His gaze flickered over to where his phone still laid, face down on the impeccably white expanse of the mattress. He didn't need to see the screen to picture the notification.

Mom, it read; he still hadn't built up the strength to block her. 9:43. The same time that she'd texted him yesterday. Maybe even down to the minute, though he wasn't sure enough of himself at the moment to say for certain. He hadn't opened the chat to check. He wasn't sure he wanted to, in case there was more to be read. More to be thought about.

Raphael — even as he was packing his bags at nineteen, she never stopped calling him that — can we please meet?

He was more confused than conflicted today. Why the same message twice? Why at nearly the same time, two days in a row, even when the messages were still marked unread? It wasn't like her and, if the idea wasn't all the more strange, he would have considered it was an automated text.

Raphael, can we please meet?

He shut his eyes, tightly, head pushing against the back of the couch. A quiet sigh. He'd thought yesterday had been a strange day for him. Today seemed determined to show it up.

Raphael, can we please meet?

Maybe he should just message back. See what she wants, after months of ignoring each other just fine. Maybe she wanted to harp on him about the book again. Maybe she just wanted to ask how he could do this to them, again.

Raphael-

"Raphael?"

Ravi snapped back to attention, glancing around the room for a fleeting moment before landing on the entrance.

"Aren't you up yet?"

Oh. Of course, Aysel. The publicist. He was still reluctant to call her his publicist, when it was the publishers that had pushed for her. And, sure, she was good at her job — but she was a little too good, too enthusiastic to suit him at all.

Her light tone through the door couldn't hide much of her intentions or that she was still pissed off; she was using his full name again.

"We needed to talk, remember?"

He pulled himself off the seat, leaving an indent where he'd sat, zoned out for far too long.

"Hold on,"

he called back out as he approached the door, fixing his shirt in an attempt to look not like he'd in a zombie state for an hour now.

I remember our talk was over yesterday, he wanted to point out, with me saying no. But a silver of pity held the snark back, just in time as he opened the door.

"Talk about what?"

he scoffed instead, leaning against the border of the entrance with crossed arms, as if blocking her path in,

"Right now?"

"You said we don't have anything scheduled today,"

he continued, feigning ignorance on their topic of conflict as he lied,

"I just woke up, was about to order in."

A pause, he looked away.

"Let's just talk after."

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[ravensunset]

time loop victim

aysel.

Despite the forecast having promised rain, Aysel was sat at a very sunny table in the outdoor section of the hotel’s cafe, coffee in hand, and once again thankful they’d booked somewhere expensive. Ravi was doing everything in his power, of course, to make the job as frustrating as possible— even pretending he was planning on ordering in just to bother her. Aysel hadn't wanted to start off her morning with an argument, but it seemed that was what was in store, the next few days at least.

“Okay, so now that we've slept on it,”

She started, deciding she'd given them both enough of a chance to wake up and settle in,

“I know yesterday went pretty badly but I think we can fix it. They're extremely interested in the book, for whatever reason.”

A sigh, somewhere to the north of exasperation, though not quite as annoyed as it’d been. “I don't want to fix it, Aysel,” he reminded, “I've told you, I'm not interested in making a movie.”

It doesn’t matter what you’re interested in. Aysel had to bite back the words, but managed to return his glare.

“Well, that’s good, because no one wants you to make it. Just, let them make it for you. Spread your story around or whatever.”

She added with an outward motion of her hand.

Aysel liked to try to get to know her clients, typically. Figure out what they wanted and how she could get it. What made them tick. Ravi was still a complete mystery. He didn’t not want attention– having a team, the book, an upcoming press conference all confirmed that– but he said no to everything she suggested anyways, without a single reason ever given, and she had no clue how to convince him, or even how to argue with him.

“Hey, don’t you two have a meeting soon?” Oliver, Ravi’s schedule manager or something of the sort— Aysel hadn’t bothered to learn why he was there— stopped in front of them.

“Hm?”

Aysel glanced up.

“With the movie director?” He had an impatient tone to his words, and a confidence without which Aysel wouldn’t have hesitated to tell him he was wrong.

“We had that yesterday.”

Aysel spoke slowly, drawing out her words as she tried to piece together what she was forgetting. Her gaze went to meet Ravi’s, eyebrows pulled together in a questioning manner.

Oliver gave Aysel a look she wasn’t at all used to getting. “I’d suggest you double check. And get going.”

More thrown off than she’d like at the words, she reached for her phone, and looked through her messages, which were… empty. None of yesterday’s texts, no update on the meeting or thank you message to the director, and she knew she hadn’t made up sending that. As she was scrolling, a text popped up on her screen.

good luck, babes! it won’t be as bad as you think. Her best friend’s name, the same words as the day before.

Aysel’s phone must be malfunctioning.

“Maybe we should go check,”

she said, and immediately regretted it. He barely listened to her as it was, and certainly didn’t need any kind of ammunition on her, much less thinking she was losing her mind.

“I mean, maybe someone set up a follow-up and forgot to let us know. Would be a good move, actually.”

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[triples]

still dreaming

ravi.

“I mean, maybe someone set up a follow-up and forgot to let us know,”

Aysel offered, as if she weren't the only one who could have done such a thing. Ravi's eyes narrowed, mood quickly re-souring. Unbothered, she tagged on,

“Would be a good move, actually.”

She was a convincing liar, but the lie itself didn't amount to much.

“You're really-"

he laughed, a scathing sound, almost in disbelief at her gall,

"I've never-”

Never? Met someone so hard-headed? Thought she would be this pushy? Arguments queued up behind his teeth but he cut himself off to take a moment.

“Well, I'm not going,"

he finally settled on announcing,

“since it seems like my opinion is irrelevant anyways."

Arms folded once again, his cutlery abandoned, his egg benedict long forgotten, Ravi vaguely registered how petulant he must look. He was too stubborn to let that change his stance.

Aysel stared at him, something their conversations lately weren't complete without. Tense seconds pass by them all too slowly, before his companion broke the silence.

"Fine. Okay,"

she snapped, not quite in resignation — though he imagined if they weren't in public, she might have thrown her hands up in a shown of such. Instead, she stood up, the screech of her chair drawing curious eyes to their table.

"I'll go, since you're so willing to leave the decision in my hands."

He scoffed, lips opening and closing again in an attempt to find a suitable retort. But before he could, she was gone, shooting him one last look as she left. The glances on him seemed to turn pitying, an old lady in his peripheral seeming to find him particularly lamentable as she shook her head. Ravi watched Aysel head back towards the hotel, lips pursed like he'd swallowed something sour.

A movie. He frowned. They would hate that.

The hotel room never seemed so welcoming until now — or so he expected to feel, with how oddly tired he was this whole morning. Instead, what he felt upon entering the room was his stomach drop. He paused at the door.

Everything was as he'd left it. Pristine floor, messy duvet, the book on the sofa. And, yet. A sense of discomfort slowed down his steps. There was no wind, but the curtain seemed to flutter.

A measured breath.

Making a beeline towards the window, he drew the curtains shut, as if that might make him feel better. In some ways, it did. It's fine, he thought, it's because of tomorrow. I'm being paranoi-

A creak.

He froze. No way. And then, a spine-chilling thought: The wardrobe door.

A figure in black, blurred in motion, lunged towards Ravi just as he whirled around to face them. His body reacted, but his mind was slower on the uptake and he found himself entangled with a stranger in the worst way, a rag forced against his mouth before he could even put it together.

The burst of chaos that followed was as subdued as it was abrupt, as they struggled in muffled silence, striking a chair that struck a lamp, before falling to the ground in a muted thud.

He couldn't breathe.

A burly arm pressed up against his throat, accompanying a strong, piercing chemical odor. The back of his skull met his attacker's face in a sharp jerk. A low groan. The hold didn't loosen. The horrible scent persisted. He wanted to retch. His nails dug into skin in desperation, his fingertips growing moist with someone else's blood. His grip was about to slip.

He couldn't fucking breathe.

His vision obscured by tears, Ravi stared at the wobbling lamp, now but a blur of light, begging it to fall.

It doesn't.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[ravensunset]

time loop victim

aysel.

Aysel didn’t know why he’d even published the book, if he didn’t want a single person to know about it. She couldn’t wait to be done with this client, and he’d even managed to sour her enjoyment of the trip. She made sure her chair made a noise as she stood, relishing the knowledge that he’d have to deal with her drawing attention, one way or another.

Her stupid phone still wasn’t fucking working.

When she got there, Mr. Roberts was sitting at the same table as before. Aysel put on her smile, trying to forget her morning.

“Hello. I wanted to say I am so sorry about yesterday, and I’m so grateful that you gave us a chance to meet again. I’m sorry Ravi couldn’t make it today.”

She took the seat opposite him, about to continue, but his look froze her in place.

“I’m sorry, and you are?”

What?

“I’m Aysel, I’m Raphael’s publicist. We spoke yesterday, about the movie rights? Like I said, he wishes he could’ve come with me today as well.”

Her voice stayed bright and practiced, despite how fast her mind was racing to put the pieces into place. Across from her, eyebrows furrowed together in bewilderment.

“No, I didn’t speak with you yesterday. I was expecting to meet both of you here today.”

Aysel stumbled at the words, at the stern tone. Her mouth opened and then closed, unable to think of a response.

“I hope you haven’t been promising the rights to someone else yesterday, then?” He said, offering a smile with the words. A joke to lighten the mood, Aysel realized, he must have noticed her expression.

“No, we,”

She started, and stopped, her ability to adapt to the situation lost.

“No, we spoke yesterday. It was right here. It went terribly, really badly, and that’s why we’re here now?”

“Are you quite alright? Here, I can get someone to help.” He started to get up from his seat. Aysel’s head was spinning.

“No, I don’t need— Yesterday, Ravi and I started arguing, and we talked about it this morning so I know—”

Aysel blinked. Her eyes closed, and she had to focus to reopen them. When she did, she no longer had a lunch table and a confused representative in front of her, but a white ceiling. She was in a hotel bedroom, sheets soft against her skin, the weight of a blanket overtop of her.

What?

Aysel pushed herself up, pinching the edge of the blanket and rubbing it between her fingers, then pinching the skin of her arm until she felt a twinge of pain. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, pushing herself up.

Something rang on her nightstand.

Aysel reached out to it slowly, as if she was approaching a wild creature. The alert on her phone read: Lunch meeting. 1 hour. She put it back down.

The outfit that she’d worn the morning before, the one she was sure she paid attention to, and the one from the morning before that, were mixed into her unworn clothes.

Outside her window, the sun shone brightly at her.

Aysel sat back down on her bed, and put her head in her hands. She must have had a nightmare that she’d missed the meeting. That made sense, she’d been stressed about how she was going to do her job well with Ravi sabotaging every move she could make.

It didn’t explain the phone notification. Or how real everything had felt, in contrast to her usual dreams.

It didn’t matter. Couldn’t matter. She knew where she was, and that she had a job to do, and very little else, which meant it was the only thing she could focus on.

Aysel stood outside the door to Ravi’s room, hand raised to knock on it.

Just like she did earlier, yesterday, in her dream, whatever.

And then what? Ask him to reconsider making a movie? He wouldn’t. She may as well just call another meeting herself, without his permission. She lowered her hand, and then raised it again, something inside her telling her to knock anyways.

♡coded by uxie♡