Hello, alien lovers!

I'm sorry I didn't send a newsletter last week. I have some family visiting from France, and we travelled to Texada Island for a week. Between work, prepping for the trip, and everything else, I got overwhelmed and didn't manage to schedule the new chapter.

It takes about ten hours and three ferries to travel from Vancouver to Texada Island. When we arrived, I was sooo tired and didn't have it in me to write a newsletter.

I spent the week doing next to nothing, reading and relaxing. I wrote a little bit, and I'm so glad to say I have two more chapters to write before I'm officially done with the first draft of Perilous Love Stars!

Welcome to Chapter 39!

If you rearrange some of the letters, Chapter 39 actually reads All of Salvatore's backstory I could cram into one chapter. Wild, eh?

Enjoy!
lunus 🩷

If you're new to the story, start with Chapter 1.

If you missed the last chapter, Previously on Perilous Love Stars.

Salvatore’s search had transformed the submarine library into a battlefield of open books and scattered papers. He sat cross-legged on the floor, his eyes rapidly scanning a file in his hands. 

“Found anything interesting yet?” Maple asked, hovering at the door, unsure of how she wanted to proceed. She was mad and hurt by Salvatore’s lies, but Daphne was right. She couldn’t go around preaching second chances and not offer one to Salvatore. Hearing him out didn’t mean Maple had to fall back into his arms. She would know to keep her fragile heart away from now on. 

“All of my dad’s academic research is here. There are dozens of books on aliens and their DNA. Case studies, experimental research. But nothing that applies to me directly. Except for this.”

He handed a wrinkled piece of paper to Maple. There was just a name and a series of numbers on it. “James Von Brahanfield. 361352030,” she read out loud. “That’s Daphne’s agent.”

“Yes, and he was Charles’ twin, too. That’s how Daphne met my Dad. James introduced them.”

Maple examined the note. The numbers didn’t seem to have a logic to them. “You think James knows something about your disease?”

“Maybe or maybe he has the research I’m looking for and doesn’t know about it. Charles was paranoid. There’s nothing here. He must have hidden it elsewhere.” He shook his head, defeated. 

Maple felt for him. They’d both come to this isolated place in the hope of finding solutions to their problems. So far, neither had been successful. 

“How do you even know his research would heal you?” she asked as gently as she could.

“Because my dad wouldn’t have waited all these years to write for no reason. There’s something, somewhere. I found the note in an empty file labelled Pietrich Betterave. That’s another clue he left for me to find.”

“Pietrich, the character from the show? Adele’s husband?”

Salvatore nodded. “He was my favourite character growing up. Charles left the bunker when I was just a kid, but we used to watch soaps together. Our favourite was Betteraves & Betrayals. It was my only escape inside the bunker.”

“You never left the bunker?” 

“Charles and The Professor created me inside a lab. I’m… I’m a mix of three different alien DNA. Both Charles and The Professor were half-aliens, both adopted. They didn’t know their birth parents, but they used their alien DNAs, as well as someone else’s, to create me.” Salvatore's hand started to glow. He glanced at it. “I’ve been sick for a long time. The divide has been happening since I was a kid. The teenagers weren’t teens then. They’d show up as crying babies. The Professor hated it. Charles wanted to protect me. After the divides, he’d take me outside the bunker to reassure me, telling me the world was bigger than what I thought. But the compound was in the middle of the Mexican desert, and I never saw anyone else there. Just the stars. Charles would say that maybe one of them was next to his planet of origin. When Charles left, The Professor’s paranoia increased, and he refused to even let me out of the bunker. All I did was train. I didn’t see the stars again for years.”

Maple was horrified by the idea of living anywhere for years without any escape. She’d never left Sobriquet Lake, not because she was a prisoner, but because the town and its people had given her freedom to be and do what she wanted to. The bunker had been Salvatore’s prison.

“Train for what?” she asked, feeling her heart ache for young Salvatore and all he had had to endure.

“To become one of their alien soldiers,” Salvatore said, his voice cold and stern. “That’s why my siblings and I were created. All of us were prototypes for our dads’ army.”

Maple sat next to him, wanting to comfort him, to hold him and give him the love he never received growing up. “You know about your siblings?”

“Of course,” Salvatore said, his eyes finding her. Despite the harshness in his voice, his eyes were still warm jade with flickers of gold dancing in them, sweet and full of affection for her. “My siblings were experiments, just like me. I had a sister, but she died before I was born. Charles told me about her. I learned about my brother later on. He was able to run away when I was just a baby. He didn’t want to become one of their soldiers.”

“I don’t understand,” Maple shook her head, disengaging from the magnetic pull of Salvatore's eyes. “Why would Charles and The Professor create aliens in an underground bunker?”

It didn’t make sense to her, although it did explain a lot about who Salvatore was. Maybe faking amnesia had been easier than facing his brutal family’s dynamics. Maple had been raised as a single child, surrounded by the love and support of two parents. Salvatore had known very little of that.

“For as long as I can remember,” Salvatore said, “my dads have been talking about building an alien army. They said that it was their mission to prevent humans from taking control over the galaxy. They always repeated that our existence was to fight for alien survival. I was given a daily training schedule when I turned five. Every day, I was expected to practice using my powers, do combat training, go to the shooting range… The bunker was never a home. It was a training station. I wasn’t raised to become someone with emotions other than anger and fear. I was raised to be a soldier, a weapon to manipulate.”

Maple took his hand, squeezing it. “I’m sorry, Salvatore. That’s awful. I thought Charles was…”

She stopped herself. Maple had admired Charles as an alien scholar, and his relationship to Daphne had made him a fascinating figure in her eyes. But Salvatore’s background cast shadows on that superficial image. Maybe Charles hadn’t been as terrible as The Professor, but he hadn’t been a good parent to Salvatore either.

Salvatore squeezed Maple’s hand back. “My dad wasn’t perfect, but he cared for me. The note is not random. He left it for me. He knew that only I would know the significance of Pietrich’s name. He’s always been my favourite character. He was a strong and honest man. He loved Adele and took care of Evelyn even if she wasn’t his biological daughter. Charles knew how much I admired him, even though he was a character. When he left the bunker, Pietrich became my only role model.”

Salvatore’s confession paralleled Maple’s relationship to the show. Betteraves & Betrayals was more than gasp-worthy plot twists and soapy love stories for Salvatore and her. It had been an anchor and a guiding light for both of them.

“That’s why I became an actor,” Salvatore continued, looking around the messy room, mentally shaking himself out of terrible memories. “I was young and reckless, and I thought I could use fame as a shield. When I auditioned for La Saga de Emmanuel, everyone was too happy to have found a lost, talented kid they could pay pennies, so they looked past my suspicious story. I didn’t have an agent, and they made me sign a terrible contract. I almost earned nada for the first few years. By the time Emmanuel went on air and the press tour began, I had enough confidence and experience to make everyone believe me.”

“What about The Professor? Weren’t you scared he would recognize you on TV?” Maple asked, remembering the cold, hard eyes of the man who had no problem threatening her life in the greenhouse.

“I was, even if I knew The Professor didn’t watch TV. I hope the surgeries I’d done to my face would buy me some time to figure out my next move. But when he didn’t manifest after a few weeks, months… I lulled myself into a sense of complacency. I thought I was safe from him.” Salvatore chuckled. It sounded hollow. “As much as one can be when The Professor is looking for them, at least. I knew that he’d find me one day. I hoped I’d get more time to prepare and that nobody else would suffer from it.” His eyes found Maple’s again. They were bleary with unshed tears. “I’m so sorry, Maple. I was careless, I assumed he wouldn’t find us this far from Sobriquet Lake. I never wanted for you to get hurt. I don’t know how he found me and tracked us down to Daphne’s house.”

“What about Charles and the divides?” Maple said, wanting to stir the conversation away from her, still uneasy about the danger Salvatore’s lies had put them in.

Salvatore wiped a tear rolling down his cheeks. “Charles worried about the divides. The Professor was beside himself when they happened. He’d blame me, convince me that it was my fault. ‘You’re weak, Son,’ he’d say. ‘I’m protecting you now because I’m your Father and I love you.’ But he always reminded me that his protection stopped outside of the bunker’s walls. ‘Nobody will ever love you like I love you,’” Salvatore repeated the words sadly, bitter memories echoing through his voice. “The Professor’s love was about protecting his interests. It was all about control. Charles wanted to find a cure. He knew the divides wouldn’t stop on their own and that they’d eventually get worse. He never tried to save me from the army they were building, but in his own twisted way, curing my disease was his proof of love. That’s why he sent the letter before he died. He must have felt guilty for leaving me behind. I don’t think he ever stopped looking for a cure.”

Maple saw the logic in Salvatore’s reasoning, and yet she couldn’t help but wonder how true it was versus how much he needed it to be true. Charles was gone, and all Salvatore had to remember him by was his research. It was easier to hold on to this idea than to admit his dad had abandoned him.

She looked at the note Salvatore had found in the folder. The series of numbers. Was the secret to Salvatore’s cure really at the end of this mystery? If it were, she wanted to help him. Salvatore deserved to live, and he deserved to heal from the hurt inflicted by his dad’s past mistakes.

“Why would Charles hide his research from you? He had your address, he could have sent you a copy.” 

Salvatore smiled, gentle and nostalgic. “He was hiding it for the same reasons I lied about my past and my true intentions in accompanying you to Daphne’s. Trauma response after years of living with a sociopath.” He paused, sighed. His shoulder slumped. As if, finally, the truth of his actions had caught up to him. “He was scared, just like I was. When the accidents happened on set, I panicked. I thought The Professor had sent someone to hurt you to get to me somehow. When you told me about Daphne, a plan emerged. I’d been wanting to get to her since I arrived in Sobriquet Lake, and I wanted to protect you. I never said anything because I was scared you would judge me if you knew the truth.”

Maple handed him the note back. “I’m not in the habit of judging people. I’ve been honest with you since that day in the car—”

“Maple, I know, I’m sorry—”

She raised her hand. “Listen to me. You were right. I was honest with you in the car, and ever since, because of your powers. That’s not radical honesty either. You’re also right that I lie to everyone. Even to myself.”

He perked up. “How so?”

“I refused to face my feelings for you.”

Before Salvatore could hijack the conversation back to said feelings that she didn’t want to linger on, Maple said, “I’m upset and hurt that you lied to me. It doesn’t mean I have to be a hypocrite. You lied because you thought that was best. I, more than anybody else, understand that.”

He squeezed her hand again. His skin was warm. His touch was strong. “I don’t want to lie anymore. I’m done.”

She kissed him. 

What else could she be doing instead in this underwater prison? Salvatore had opened up to her; she wanted him to know how much she appreciated it. Maybe their love story was over, but they could still provide some comfort to each other. 

Maple let him kiss her back. She watched him with desire as he undressed himself before stripping her clothes off her body. She roared with pleasure when his fingers found the throbbing spot between her legs. When Salvatore made love to her, when he thrusted back and forth inside of her, Maple closed her eyes, reminding herself to be in the present, to enjoy this moment.

It would be the last time she’d let Salvatore touch her.

“Good morning, everyone. It is both with a heavy heart and a heart filled with gratefulness that I am standing here in front of you today. As many of you are aware, the past week has been incredibly challenging for our Betteraves & Betrayals family. Amidst confusing and surprising news, many of you have raised questions and concerns. I’m here today to answer some of them in the hope of providing clarity for our fans and collaborators. 

My first announcement today is bittersweet. I received news that Bōøbol has decided to cancel Betteraves & Betrayals after 73 seasons and over 18,000 episodes. I want to thank everyone at Bōøbol for giving our show three additional years, and extend my gratitude to our creative and technical team who have made the show a success for all these decades. Betteraves & Betrayals will forever be remembered as a staple of Canadian television and culture, and a show my family has been proud to produce since its beginning. To conclude our beautiful adventure, Bōøbol has allowed us to say goodbye to Evelyn, Saturno, and all the others, in a 90-minute special episode to be broadcast live on Tuesday, July Xth,  a month from now. Ersweld Included, and the workers of our show are grateful to Bōøbol for giving us one last chance to say goodbye and to draw the Betterave Family’s adventures to a close meaningfully.

With this sad news comes another. Due to recent reports of on-set mismanagement and other incidents, Bōøbol and Erseld Included have taken the difficult decision to conclude the B&B legacy without Maple Defleuvier’s involvement. We are appreciative of Ms. Defleuvier’s contribution to the show and thank her for her commitment to showcasing diverse and inclusive stories. We wish Ms. Defleuvier the best in her future endeavours.

Finally, I would like to take a moment to thank everyone who has been involved in the search to find me. Wherever you shared posts online or contacted the authorities, I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart. Although my lawyers have advised me against sharing more details about the incident, I disagree. Honesty and transparency are paramount to the road to recovery. I’m here today to announce that, just like over 5% of our population, I, too, suffer from substance abuse. A week ago, I found myself on another bender with the woman I love. In a surge of passion, she tied me up—consensually—to our hotel room bed. I asked her to gag me and blindfold me as well. We were both under the influence of a lot of substances, and I guess that in the drug haze, my girlfriend forgot about me in the hotel room after she left. If it wasn’t for two housekeepers who, after three days without cleaning the room—thanks to a tragically misplaced “Do Not Disturb Or I Will Get You Fired” sign on the door—finally decided to venture inside. These two brave folks, whose names I don’t remember, saved me. I might not remember your names or what you look like, but you mean the world to me. Thank you.”

Excerpt from the transcript of Ermet Ersweld’s Press Conference on June XXth, 20X6.