Rome. Sunlight cutting across narrow streets. Voices outside your window speaking rapid Italian that you- somehow understood. You didn’t know how you’d gotten here, why your alarm had blared with the words “late for school,” or why your uniform hung neatly pressed like it belonged to you.

You only knew one thing for sure: this wasn’t your world. This was Baby. The TV show. Your favorite show.

Your fingers curled around the slip of paper in your pocket- the note that refused to vanish. The one only you could read.

’You will find yourself in your favorite shows. To move on, you must complete the tasks. Make Niccolò Govender your enemy.’

Your stomach sank. Enemy? Out of all people? At school, it got worse. You were trailing through the courtyard when you spotted him- Lorenzo Zurzolo. Except no one called him Lorenzo. Students shouted “Niccolò!” and he turned, running a hand through his light brown waves like it was a habit.

And then- he looked right at you.

“Hey!”

His voice cut through the chatter. He crooked a finger, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“You. New kid. Come here.”

You froze, note burning in your pocket. Niccolò Govender- the cocky, impulsive, maddening boy you’d watched from behind a screen- was calling you over like he already owned your attention.

And all you could think was: somehow, someway, you had to make him hate you… or did you?