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You knew the Researcher was going to figure it out eventually. You just didn't expect it to be so soon. It took her thousands of loops to tell that something was seriously wrong with you. Dozens, for stardust.
Two weeks.
Two weeks for her to figure out who you are.
No, less than that, even. Two weeks was just when she was finally able to get you alone to confront you about it.
You denied it immediately of course, but all that did was encourage her to list out all the ways in which you'd failed to keep your identity secret. Apparently you'd tamped down on your habits, avoided talk of plays, and eaten potatoes of all things for nothing, because she could still see all the things you never thought to hide or never could hide. How you have a blind side that you keep bumping into things on, your avoidance of croissants (you did try to eat one to further your differences from stardust; you never got past staring at it), the way hints of your accent slip back in when you're too exhausted, how you still blinding jump when touched, stars, apparently even your laugh, your genuine, non-unhinged laughter is still the same as his.
The final nail in the coffin came during the confrontation itself, when she called you your old name, and you flinched. There was nothing you could say to explain that one, so you switched tactics. If they knew who you were, they'd find out what you'd done eventually, so it was better to rip the bandaid off and get kicked out right then and there than to anxiously wait for it to come at any moment.
So you admitted it! You told her all the worst parts of yourself, the way you destroyed your timeline, how you tried to kill stardust while he was craft-exhausted, how you viewed each and every party member like a character in a play, like they weren't real, how you made sure the King killed them all by coaxing stardust out for a loop just to test a theory. You bared your soul to her, making sure she saw the absolute worst bits. Ha! You were certain Miss I'd-Do-Horrible-Things-To-Protect-All-Of-You would surely force you to leave after that.
Oh, how wrong you were.
You still don't understand it, to be honest. But she seems to file those things under the same category as she does stardust's breakdown. Not good, but not something to blame you for considering the circumstances.
Stardust was elated when they found out, spouting something about how they told you the party wouldn't kick you out if they learned who you were. You don’t like how encouraged you felt by that.
Truthfully, she was the one you were most expecting to kick you out. She’s the most logical one, and you'd proven yourself dangerous – why keep you so close to the others when you've destroyed your timeline and tried to kill stardust in the past? But not only was she allowing that, she also directly appointed you as her assistant on all her supply runs so you can get a break from your family acting like they don't know you.
It's . . . nice.
It's not the same, but it's nice.
In a rare moment of vulnerability, you expressed that sentiment to stardust and their Odile and they suggested you tell the others your identity so you could experience it with them as well. An offer as terrifying as it was tempting, and filled with reassurances from the other two that the worst case scenario would not happen.
You mulled it over that whole night while sleep eluded you.
Eventually, the three of you came to the decision that you would allow them to know, but to lessen the feeling of being trapped that a conversation with the entire party would bring, you would instead make a game out of it. Just . . . stop pretending, and see how long it'd take them to figure it out. An elaborate prank, though not a prank at all.
So you did. Though you're different enough from stardust now that you don't act the exact same, you stopped going out of your way to hide your identity . . . mostly. You have to keep eating potatoes now or Bonnie thinks you don’t like their cooking, and you . . . still haven't been able to bring yourself to pun with the Fighter again.
But it must still be noticeable, because it's only been a few days and you can tell the others are starting to suspect that something is up. They keep casting odd glances at the three of you, and according to stardust's Odile, the Fighter came up to her asking if she knew anything about it. She gave him some non-answer and sent him on his way. The thought is as exciting as it is anxiety-inducing.
It's now the fourth day since you've started this game and everyone is gathered around the campfire for some after-dinner party games. Someone suggested truth or dare, but you, stardust, and his Odile all vetoed it. What’s the fun in this game if they could just make you say what was going on instead of figuring it out themselves, after all? So instead you've been playing things like charades and two truths and a lie.
At least until the Kid calls for a break to remove the baked apples that have been sitting in the embers at the edge of the fire.
"Well, since we seem to be marathoning party games tonight,” stardust’s Odile says as she’s handed a bowl with her apple in it, “here's a question to propose to you all: what would you do if you met your clone?"
"HA-!" You slap your hand over where your mouth used to be, mortified at your reaction. But stardust hasn't stopped his own laughter, so you allow yourself to giggle a little in response.
Their Odile is looking at you both with mirth on her face. Oh she knew exactly what she was doing when she said that. You don't think your game is going to last the night. "Oh? Does someone want to go first?"
"No, no," you manage to reply as you take your own bowl of apple. "Everyone else should go first."
"I see." That smug smile remains fixed on her face. She turns to everyone else. "You heard the star. Care to answer the question?"
Silence falls as everyone contemplates their answers.
“Hmmmmm . . .” The Housemaiden is the first to speak. “Is this like, clone that just looks like me or is this like clone that is me and has my memories and everything?”
For the briefest moment, you see the eyes of stardust’s Odile flick over to you and stardust, quick enough to miss if you weren’t already looking at her. “Clone that has your memories,” she clarifies.
“Okay. Well in that case I think we’d get along! I mean, we’d already like the same things, and completely get each other, and oh my gosh I’d have someone to talk to about all my theories on the Cursing of Chateau Castle who is all caught up on everything and GETS IT and-” She cuts herself off, laughing nervously. “Sorry. But um! Yes! I think we’d talk about the things we like together!”
“Cute!” the Fighter says. “There's no clones here-” his eyes flick over to stardust when they cover up their snort with a cough, “-but I'd be glad to be your theory buddy!”
The Housemaiden looks at him seriously. “Isabeau. I love you, but you're only on book 3. There are 87.”
He looks away with a grimace. “Okay . . . But eventually! When I do catch up! In . . . uh . . . maybe a few years.”
“I will look forward to it then.”
“Yes!” He looks around. “. . . Who's next?”
“Oh! Oh! Me!” The Kid raises their fists high in the air as they declare, “We’d FIGHT TO THE DEATH!!!”
Stardust covers a second snort with their hand. You try not to grimace.
“Oh yeah?” the Fighter grins.
“Wait,” the Housemaiden says. “You wouldn't actually kill your clone, right?”
“Oh. Um.” They think about it for a long time. “. . . No, we'd probably just have like, a cooking battle. See who can make the best food.”
“That's a fight I'd like to see,” stardust's Odile comments.
“Who would win, then?” the Fighter asks.
The Kid crosses their arms with a smirk. “Obviously me. Everyone knows originals are the best.”
“Originals are the best, hmm?” You rest your head on the back of your hand as your eyes slide back to stardust. He sticks his tongue out at you. You don't have a tongue to return the gesture, so instead you waggle your head a little with a “nyehhh” and hope that gets your point across.
At least until you notice the Fighter looking at you, his brows furrowed. You blink and stare right back. Wait. Has he . . . ? Was that the final clue for him? He continues looking at you, even as the Housemaiden and Kid carry on their conversation. You can practically see the gears turning in his head.
Wait. You know how you can find out without saying anything.
You cast him a wink, like old times.
He flusters and looks away. Ha! He’s definitely figured it out, then! The thought of that is . . . surprisingly less anxiety-inducing than you were expecting. It’s . . . it’s actually kind of exciting? Almost fun.
Well, this is a game.
You’re sure the anxiety is going to hit as soon as the game is over and you have to talk.
Actually the thought of that is already starting to make your gut roil.
Stars. That . . . This is really happening, isn’t it? They’re all going to find out tonight. It’s happening. It’s- They’re going to find out. They’re going to learn everything. They’re going to-!
Your eyes catch stardust’s. They place a hand on their chest and mime breathing. You-
You breathe.
In.
And out.
And follow his pattern.
It’s . . . it’ll be fine. It’ll be fine. Stardust’s Odile promised to help if things got . . . out of hand. And having her approval should help with the others, right? You hope, anyway . . .
Stardust nods at you, then turns to the Fighter beside him. “What about you, Isa?”
He crosses his arms, eyes closed in thought. “Hmmmm that's a tough one.” But he decides quickly, as he opens his eyes and says, “I think he’d make a great comedy partner. Second best, probably. Third best?”
Third best?
Is . . . he including you? But you haven’t really . . .
“But actually . . .” The Fighter locks his eyes with yours, and he’s still answering the question, but it feels as if he’s talking directly to you. About you. “I’d give him a big hug and tell him how proud I am of him. Because despite everything, he’s still here, and he’s still trying his best.”
You . . .
Haha.
You want to cry.
Stars, you need to get your act together. You can’t go breaking right in the middle of the discussion! That would be weird! The Housemaiden and Kid still don’t know yet! You breathe in, and out, and close your eyes.
When you open them again, you cast your signature smile at stardust’s Odile. “Your turn, oh one who started this all~”
“Oh, if you insist.” After a moment of thought, she says, “Well. The first order of business would be to figure out how exactly this happened. It’d be quite a shock, and seemingly impossible. After that, we’d probably try to figure out if there are any differences between us. After that . . .” She shrugs. “Who knows, really?”
She doesn’t elaborate further, so everyone turns to stardust, and you. Waiting for the next person in line.
"Personally," you say, deciding to take your turn before stardust has a chance to, "I think we would annoy the stars out of each other and never want to interact again.” You take a bite of your apple. Well, bite isn’t exactly the right word, as you don’t really have a mouth to bite with, but you still kind of just . . . consume it.
“But what if you had to?” stardust prompts. “What if you were both stuck in a horrible situation and only had each other to help you through it?”
You gesture with your spoon. “Oh then one hundred percent we’d get too attached to each other for our own good.”
Stardust laughs quietly and you count that as a win in your mind. You can still be funny! You cross your legs and hum as you look at your other self, leaning your head against the palm of your hand. "What about you, stardust? What would you do if you met your clone?"
"Personally," they return, holding back another laugh, "I think we would annoy the stars out of each other and never want to interact again. Unless, of course, we were stuck together in a horrible situation. Then we'd get too attached to each other for our own good."
"Hey!" you shout, though you're holding back your own laughter. "That was my answer! After all the things you've copied from me, you're going to copy this, too?"
Stardust is laughing too much to answer. To your delight, the Fighter picks up the slack. "M'dame, is it plagiarism if you copy down something that another you has written?"
Stardust’s Odile smirks. "Yes, I do believe that would still be considered plagiarism."
"Aw, boooo," stardust returns, having caught his breath.
Only for both of you to lose it once more as the Housemaiden exclaims, "WAIT."
You CACKLE, tipping backwards until you fall off the log you've been sitting on. Stars, stars, you can't breathe, you're wheezing out whatever breaths you manage to snatch. Stardust doesn't seem to be faring much better; the only reason he hasn't fallen off yet is because he's collapsed against the Fighter.
“Hold on hold on hold on!” the Housemaiden continues.
“Y-yeah, Mira?” stardust manages to gasp while you struggle to climb back onto your log.
“Hold on,” she repeats. “Are you two telling the truth right now or is everyone all in on an elaborate prank against me specifically.”
You mock gasp. “You think we’d lie to you, Dear Housemaiden?”
Her face sets itself into a firm expression. “Either you’re lying to me now or you’ve been lying to me for the past several weeks.”
Hey . . .
But you can’t quite . . . say she’s wrong. You grimace as you look away, accidentally meeting stardust’s gaze as they do the same.
Sometimes you hate how similar you are.
“. . . Loop? Siffrin?”
Stardust tilts his head and raises his eyebrows at you. Augh, yeah, you know, it’s your secret to tell, they’re not going to reveal it for you, you’re supposed to be talking to people, too, blah blah blah whatever.
It’s hard, though. It’s always hard, to just . . . say things, outright.
So you don’t! You slip the mask back on and lean your head into your hand as you ask, “What do you think, Housemaiden?”
Silence. You watch as she bites her lip. You’ve made her anxious. Idiot. You know she hates being put on the spot.
The one who breaks the silence is not her, nor you, nor even stardust, but instead the Kid. They lean close to the Housemaiden and whisper in a tone that is definitely still loud enough for the rest of you to hear, “What’s going on?”
The Housemaiden returns in kind, “Um. I think . . .” She glances around at everyone. First you, then stardust, then the Fighter, then stardust's Odile. “I think they're saying Siffrin is a clone of Loop?”
“Bingo!” You carefully make sure you are still smiling and that none of your nerves are showing.
The Kid squints. “But Frin's not a star?”
Stardust coughs. “Other way around, Bonbon.”
“I didn't used to be a star,” you clarify. “What, you think star people are naturally formed?”
“I don't know! I've never met a star person before!”
You look away. “. . . No, I guess you wouldn't have.” Leaning forward to put more pressure on the hands under your legs, you brush past that by saying, “But yes, your Housemaiden is correct! You got me!” You tilt your head, close your eyes, and place a hand on your chest, as the dramatics require. “Woe, o woe, the worse Siffrin who couldn't make it past the blinding King until thousands of loops in and only escaped by shunting everything onto a differ-” Several tiny solid objects scatter across your shoulder. You snap your eyes open.
“Stop.”
And blink.
Did . . . Odile . . . just . . .
Stardust's Odile threw gravel at you???
“We've already been over this. You are not ‘The Worse Siffrin’ for doing everything you could on your own. You are not ‘The Worse Siffrin’ for not having help with your loops.”
You cross your arms and grumble something unintelligible, averting your gaze. You are the worse Siffrin, and if not for those things, at the very least for the fact that you tried to kill stardust.
Their Odile sighs and you tighten your grip on your arms.
There is a very long, awkward silence.
Eventually, the Fighter is the one that breaks it. “. . . What happened?”
The campfire, you decide, is very interesting.
Stardust slips off his log and onto yours. Ignoring the way you jump at it, he gently nudges his knee against your own. A part of you wants to shove them off the log. Another part is grateful for their presence.
“You said you would tell them.”
The part that wants to shove them off the log gets louder.
“I'm getting there,” you mutter, as if you've even so much as said a word to the Fighter's question. Maybe you can keep stalling? “It's a lot,” you tell everyone. “I wouldn't know where to start.”
“The beginning is usually a good option,” stardust's Odile suggests.
“Would it help if you told it like a story?” stardust asks. “Like it's about someone else?”
You huff out a breath. “A play, huh . . .” Stars. You promised you'd talk to them. Stardust has been talking to them. You need to do it, too. Just. Just get it over with. “. . . Okay. Alright. Fine.”
You breathe in.
And out.
Stardust presses his knee against you more firmly. It'll be fine. You can do this. Between how they've been responding to stardust and how stardust's Odile has responded to you, everything is in your favor. You can do this.
“Okay. So. This is the story of how one little traveler . . . became a star . . .”