Hello, alien lovers!
Last year, one of my friends introduced me to the concept of ✨spacious summer✨ to encourage us to slow down during summer, enjoy the outdoors more, and recharge before September and autumn roll back in.
I'm going back to school this September to start a Master's in Publishing, which I'm really looking forward to. I'll be working full-time on top of that and will continue to have other commitments, such as the community co-op I co-founded, the Peer-to-Peer Community Co-op.
So, I'm in dire need of a spacious summer! Will I succeed in attaining it? Can I scale back enough over the summer to avoid burnout before September—and to ensure it doesn't happen in October, November, etc?
I don't know, but wish me luck!
Welcome to Chapter 33!
Shit hits the fan!!! Secrets are revealed!!!!
Enjoy!
lunus 🩷
If you're new to the story, start with Chapter 1
If you missed the last chapter, Previously on Perilous Love Stars
Maple jolted awake seconds after the large ebony doors of the library burst open.
Salvatore, whom she’d apparently fallen asleep on, followed suit with a groan. “What’s going on?”
They’d passed out on the desk after fucking each others senseless. Maple’s lower back ached from all the naked thrusting and uncomfortable sleeping accommodation. It was daylight outside, which meant she’d gotten at least a few hours of rest. She felt none of it and regretted not dragging her ass to one of the dozen available plushy beds in the mansion.
“Wake up, misérables!” Daphne’s thunderous voice announced, her sharp heels clacking on the ground, the sound crashing into Maple’s skull. She wasn’t nearly awake enough to match the actress’s hyper energy.
Daphne stopped, taking one long, judging look at them—Maple’s loosely closed robe barely hiding her naked skin, Salvatore’s arms around her, and their compromising position on the desk.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Daphne cried out, raising her hands and eyes to the sky. “Trespassing wasn’t enough? You had to copulate on my desk, too?”
Maple was too groggy and ashamed to form any coherent response to the factual accusation. They’d broken into Daphne’s mansion despite knowing she didn’t want to see anyone, leveraged old emotional wounds to force her hospitality, just to end up fucking like wild animals in the middle of her library. If there were a prize for worst guests, their name would be carved on it.
“Speechless for once!” Daphne clamoured, walking toward the bookshelf on the south wall. “Dress up! We’re under attack.”
“Under attack?” Maple’s mental capacity was still limited to repeating what she was hearing. Something knotted in her stomach when Salvatore jumped off the desk, perfectly alert, as if he’d been ready for such a situation.
Daphne’s long, slender fingers travelled across books’ spines, looking for a specific one. “You brought trouble to my door, Señor Suàrez.”
Salvatore didn’t dispute it. He rushed to the floor-to-ceiling windows, scanning Daphne’s rose garden for threats.
“How many?” he asked.
“I counted six mercenaries so far. I had to leave the surveillance room, so there could be more I didn’t clock.”
Maple watched Salvatore’s posture shift. He stretched his neck and tensed his muscles, getting ready for a fight.
“What’s going on?” she asked, feeling out of place and vulnerable in her robe.
Salvatore had his clothes on, and Daphne’s kimono—black, with embroideries of flames burning tiny stick people—was layered on top of a very modest (by Daphne’s standards) knee-length silk nightgown.
Maple was severely underdressed for an impromptu mercenary attack.
“Your boyfriend brought a pile of burning shit to my house,” Daphne snapped in response. She found the book she needed and pulled it, triggering a panel of the shelf to open. A keypad appeared next to it.
Maple turned to Salvatore. He didn’t face her, his eyes scanning the garden. “Salvatore, what is she talking about?”
“Ah!” Daphne laughed, typing a code on the keypad, which revealed another hidden panel. It opened to a display of a dozen weapons ranging from small handguns to bazooka-like machines. She grabbed the biggest one, a slim bazooka, not flinching under what Maple assumed to be a heavyweight.
“Your Alien Boy didn’t tell you about his daddy issues?” Daphne prepped the sleek weapon on her shoulder. After a glance at Salvatore, who still refused to look at anything other than the garden, she smiled bitterly. “Of course, he didn’t. He’s just like his dad. All men do is lie.”
“Salvatore?” Maple’s voice was louder, insistent. “Why is Daphne Dutrignon talking as if she knows your dad? You don’t know who your dad is, right?”
That got another cackle out of Daphne. Salvatore had the decency to wince. “Maple, I can explain, but not right now. If he’s here—”
“Oh, he is fucking here!” Daphne yelled, arming her bazooka, ready to shoot at any moment. “And I’m going to fucking kill him.”
Maple decided to start yelling as well. Maybe she’ll get answers. “Salvatore! What is going on? Don’t ignore me after fucking me all night!”
“Maple!” He roared, finally deigning to look at her. There was fury and terror in his eyes. “Not now. We have to get you to safety. Daphne, where can Maple hide?”
“Hiding? I’m not hiding!” Maple grabbed his arm. “Don’t treat me like I don’t have agency.”
He calmed down, controlling his breathing. “These people are dangerous, Maple.”
“Who are these people?” she asked, hoping for some answer. “Why didn’t Daphne react when she saw you use hydrokinesis? How does she know your dad? Do you know your dad?”
He grabbed her arm back, tugging her to him. His sturdy body enveloped hers in a protective embrace. “Trust me, not now.”
She pulled back, pushing herself away from him. “No, that’s the thing. I can’t trust you when you act like this.”
The fury was back in his gaze, varnished with heartbreak. “Maple, please—”
“Enough chit-chat,” Daphne cut in, waltzing across the room to the windows.
Two dark forms appeared at the end of the garden, crawling behind bushes, armed with assault weapons.
“Here they are. I see two, that means there are at least four more coming.” Daphne kicked open the window. A rush of fresh air filled the room. She aimed her bazooka towards the two intruders. “If I were you, I’d get a weapon and find the others before they find you. I know they’re not here for me.”
Salvatore’s jaw clenched. He snatched a handgun equipped with a silencer from the display. Maple noted the ease with which he held the weapon, the swift way he’d made up his mind about which weapon to go for. He was familiar with all of this.
“Would someone tell me what the hell is going on?” Maple pleaded since everything else she’d tried had failed to deliver any answer. “Before everyone goes wild shooting at each other like this is America, can I get an explanation?”
Daphne sighed. “Alien boy? They’re your lies after all.”
“Stop reducing him to his alienhood, that’s rude,” Maple protested.
“Girl, have you read your own books? ‘An Alien 2 Die 4?’ Fuck off!”
“Now isn’t the time to explain, Maple,” Salvatore cut in.
“Then when? And when will you stop lying to me?” She hated how quivery her voice sounded. Being lied to by him hurt more than she thought it would. Maple thought about her crew, about all the people she was lying to. Would they feel the same way if they knew? Would they feel as betrayed as she felt right now?
Daphne snickered, closing one eye, levelling her weapon at the targets outside. “Men lie all the time, sweetheart, that’s what they do. Charles lied to me our entire life. I had to wait until the reading of his will to discover he had a secret family with a man. Never said one thing about sucking dicks in all the years we spent together. What a fucking bastard. And now, here we are. He’s dead, and I’m left to deal with his shitty family.”
The click in Maple’s mind was instantaneous. Daphne’s strange reaction to Salvatore and his powers, Charles’ work on alien DNA, and his secret family —all of it was connected.
“Wait,” Maple processed out loud. “Does that mean that…” She pointed at Salvatore. “You and Charles knew each other?”
“She’s slow, eh?” Daphne’s finger clasped onto the bazooka's trigger. “Since Alien Boy doesn’t want to talk, I’ll fill in the gaps for you, sweetie. Charles and Salvatore knew each other very well since they’re related. Salvatore is one of Charles’ secret children.”
And with that, Daphne pulled the trigger.
FOREVER SOAPY EXCLUSIVE: Dutrignon not back at Betteraves & Betrayals, Defleuvier’s lies finally revealed!
by Peyter Panffer
Well, well, well. Who could have predicted such a soapy twist to this summer’s saga? It seems like proofs of misconduct against Betteraves & Betrayals’ showrunner and alleged* alien trafficker, Maple Defleuvier, are piling up. After disregarding years of #MeToo advocacy and allegedly blackmailing the star of her show into forced intimacy, a new bomb dropped yesterday when Forever Soapy learned in an exclusive through Daphne Dutrignon’s agent, James Von Barahanfield, that Ms. Dutrignon wasn’t and hasn’t been part of “any talks to return to Betteraves & Betrayals.” The actress’s long-time agent and friend, as well as her late husband Charles Von Brahanfield’s twin, had been on a cruise for the past few weeks, and only heard of the fake news when he came back to Canada two days ago. He told Forever Soapy that, although he hadn’t talked to Ms. Dutrignon in months, he was sure she would never entertain the idea of coming back to the show. “Daphne’s career is over, she’s retired,” the octogenarian added over the phone during the exclusive interview he gave Forever Soapy.
The news, of course, conflicts with previous, official announcements from Bobool and Ersweld Included that Delfeuvier had secured Dutrignon’s return to the show. Dutrignon’s comeback was announced a day before production shut down on the 73rd season of Betteraves & Betrayals. When reached for comments, Bobool executives said, “We are taking this recent development seriously and will conduct a thorough internal investigation regarding claims made by showrunner Maple Defleuvier and head producer Ermet Ersweld. Bobool never condones lies and deceptions, and appropriate actions will be taken once we complete our investigation.”
The reactions to the shocking news have skyrocketed online. #FireMaple and #NotInMySoap are trending nationally on most platforms. Fans are hoping for some justice for their beloved show, and many will be happy if that means Defleuvier has to go. “I don’t know why someone would make up such a hideous lie,” James von Brahanfield commented. “Daphne has been through enough. She deserves to retire in peace.”
* Forever Soapy received a defamation lawsuit sent by the Defleuvier family’s lawyer in a desperate attempt to silence the truth. However, until matters have been legally dealt with, our legal team and financial sponsors have advised us to add “alleged” as a preface to any “unfounded or not-easily provable claims.”
Forever Soapy, article, Jun 20XX