Love Addict's RPG Ch. 32

God these chapters took so much out of me...

---

Going shopping with Stacy was just as exhausting as Oliver worried it would be. New Digs was a relatively large store, and she had him following her as she marched through every last inch of it. In a place like this, Stacy had the attention span of a squirrel zipping and zooming toward whatever caught her eye. She would stop, hold up a shirt to Oliver, put it back, or tell him to hold onto it so he could try it on, and then move straight down the aisle to repeat the process again and again.

It brought to mind memories of school shopping with his mom, only this was much more embarrassing.

It only got worse when it was time to try on the clothes she'd picked out. He half expected her to follow him into the booth and strip him herself with how eager she was to see the results of her careful selection. Oliver was forced to give Stacy a full-on fashion show. He would head into the booth, put on new combinations, get gawked at while Stacy gave him feedback or instructions to try this top with those pants, go back in, come out, and do it all over again.

As humiliating as this was, Oliver put up with it because he couldn't deny Stacy knew what she was talking about. When she figured out a combination that worked, it worked. Furthermore, her observations and insightful commentary actually started to make sense to him after a while. He couldn't tell for sure because it wasn't like he had an experience bar to check, but Oliver was almost sure that Stacy's lectures counted as style training.

Oliver was learning, albeit slowly. He assumed it was a stat he could only improve by studying what worked for other people, researching trends, and discussing with experts like Stacy and Jordan who knew what they were talking about. Very annoying. Of the four statistics, style seemed like it'd be the biggest pain to train.

How Oliver made it through the fashion exhibition, he didn't know. Stacy was bombarding him with compliments whenever something worked, meaning he was blushing for most of it and could only stammer a few words here and there edgewise.

It wasn't the worst thing in the world, though. Stacy was... decent company, and he eventually accepted somewhere along the way that it felt mildly good to be praised by her.

When they were finally finished picking things out, everything was sorted into two big piles. The rejects and the must-haves. The only problem was that the former totaled up to a lot more than three hundred dollars.

"It's such a shame," Stacy clicked her tongue. "You look so good in all of these that I can't possibly narrow things down any more than I already have!"

"Stacy, this is like eight hundred bucks worth of shit. There's no fucking way I can justify that."

"Aww, are you sure?" She cocked her head innocently. "And here I thought you wanted to look nice for Mia..."

"I do, but I don't need to spend eighty percent of my savings to-" Oliver caught the way Stacy was suddenly smiling at him, instantly realizing his mistake. He was tempted to lock himself up in the changing room.

"Where to even begin...?" Stacy asked in a singsong voice.

"I'm pleading the fifth."

"What happened?"

"Refer to my prior statement."

"Are you guys dating?"

"Two statements prior."

"Did she ask you out, or did you ask her?"

"Stacy-"

"Knowing you, I'm gonna guess it was her. Fucking finally. I thought she'd never-"

"Wait, you knew Mia was into me?"

"Uh, duh? Newsflash, hon, most people with eyes figured that one out pretty fucking quick."

"God damn it," Oliver cradled his face in his palm, hiding his embarrassment.

"I just think it's funny how the three of us ended up working at the same place. Like, what are the fucking odds of that happening?"

He tore himself from his hand shelter long enough to ask, "What do you mean?"

"Uh, isn't it obvious...?" Stacy's expression suddenly became more guarded, an eyebrow arched in curiosity.

"What, that we went to school together? She told me, but I still don't really remember her. Either way, it's not that big of a coincidence."

Stacy pursed her lips. Someone chickened out, it seemed. Hard to blame her for that, she supposed. Unpacking this particular can of worms wasn't in her job description, however, and she wouldn't do it if she didn't have to.

"I guess you're right..." she shrugged, then moved along the discussion so he didn't overthink it. "Tell you what. I said I couldn't narrow this down anymore, but I didn't say anything about you. Take all the advice I've given you and pick out four hundred dollars worth of clothes, and I'll see if I can't sweet talk the dumb shit cashier into giving you a discount."

Her distraction was successful, as Oliver focused right back on the topic at hand. He was eager to drop the topic of Mia, anyway, as it was too embarrassing to continue discussing with his present company. "You really think that'll work?"

"Probably, yeah. Guy's been staring at my tits since we walked in. Historically, that's always been a good sign I can wrap someone around my finger."

Having seen firsthand how easily Stacy could win people to her side when she wanted to, Oliver wasn't about to argue with her estimation. He did have one concern, however. "And what if he turns out to be a creep like the coffee shop guy?"

"Shouldn't be a problem since my boyfriend is here to protect me. Isn't that right, hon?" Stacy smiled mischievously at him through half-lidded eyes, and Oliver could've sworn she was feeding off his embarrassment like some sort of psychic vampire.

Oliver slouched and sighed heavily, freshly drained.

Using everything Stacy taught him, he sorted through the must-haves pile. This goes with that, that goes with this, and that goes with that, repeat. It wasn't easy. His brain felt just as taxed as when he was flexing his creative muscles earlier in the day, if not more. Stacy wasn't even bothering to help, merely watching without comment and offering no hint as to whether he was making the right call.

When at last he was done, she finally revealed the results. He passed with flying colors, and Stacy was very proud of him. Admittedly, he felt a little proud of himself, too.

A notification popped up that definitely reinforced his pride.

--- Gained 1 Style! ---

Thank God. That made today's events a little easier to stomach. He guessed the level-up made sense since between the haircut, Stacy and Jordan's direct advice on caring for his hair, and Stacy drilling basic fashion tips into him, Oliver practically spent the last five hours getting overloaded by knowledge.

Now all that was left was for Stacy to work her magic, which she most definitely did.

Completely off the top of her head, Stacy improvised an improbable tale that she convinced the cashier was the honest-to-goodness truth. All she had to do to have him eating out of the palm of her hand was throw on some crocodile tears, make her voice a tad bit cutesier than usual, and lean in over the counter enough so that some extra cleavage was on display.

According to Stacy, Oliver was her boyfriend and also a former crackhead whom she nursed back to health. Oliver almost checked out mentally after that was her fucking opener, but the false reality she painted with her words was so compelling that he was forced to suffer through the entire story out of sheer fascination.

There was a lengthy preamble about how Oliver came from a bad family and made a lot of bad choices that led to him having a brief stint on the streets before finally winding up at the rehab clinic Stacy allegedly worked at. One thing led to another; they got together, and now Oliver's reached six months of sobriety. Their current problem? His first job interview was lined up, but he needed some suitable clothes, and they were just a little bit short on cash.

The guy didn't even argue.

Without so much as questioning the most blatantly bullshit sob story that had ever been bullshitted, he freely gave away a hundred dollars worth of fancy clothes. Not only that, but he also applied several discounts usually reserved for people in their exclusive membership program, allowing Oliver to go back and pick out another hundred dollars worth of clothes.

Stacy ripped him off so hard that Oliver genuinely felt sorry for the guy. If she was having an off day earlier when dealing with the barista, then she'd clearly regained her final form by now in all its horrifying power.

--- Spent $300

Item Received! Trendy Clothes ---

"Best of luck to you out there, man," the cashier said, oblivious to Oliver sucking the bags into his inventory. "You got a hell of a woman in your corner. Don't go taking her for granted."

"Wouldn't dream of it, thanks," Oliver replied, his voice hollow and monotone from how far, far away from here he was by now.

Satisfied with herself, Stacy completed the act by wrapping her arm around his and squeezing her big breasts against his shoulder. Her hand took his as she smiled and politely thanked the cashier one last time before leading Oliver outside like a dog on a leash.

Two notifications hit him in succession the moment they left the building.

---

Quest Completed! Ask Stacy for a Makeover +10LP

Milestones Achieved! Hung out with Stacy +10LP, Held hands with Stacy +10LP

---

The fact that he just got a whopping 30LP barely registered for Oliver, and neither did the handholding. He was still in awe of what she was able to accomplish.

"How the fuck did you pull that off?" He asked right as she withdrew her hand.

"When I want something, I get it," Stacy purred. "And it just so happens I use my powers for good occasionally. Why, are you impressed?"

"I'd been a lot more so if you hadn't convinced a random stranger that I was a crackhead, but you did still save me a shitload of money, so... yeah, I guess."

"You guess?"

Oliver sighed. "Fine. I'm very impressed. Are you happy now?"

"A bit," Stacy gave him another dangerous smile that made his heart race. Luckily, she broke eye contact to check her phone and was shocked to discover it was already almost seven. "Shit, I didn't notice it was getting so late. I need to get to the nearest bus stop..."

He couldn't believe what he was about to offer, but after everything that had already happened, Oliver supposed it wasn't that out of the blue. "My place isn't that far from here. I could give you a ride home if you want."

"No, that's..." Stacy shifted around awkwardly. "That's fine. The bus is just down the street, anyway."

Oliver thought she was acting a little shady, but far be it from him to pry. "I can walk you there, at least. Make sure that there aren't any sex-craved baristas looking to ambush you."

She eased up a little, giving him a relaxed smile. "My hero."

They got there right before the bus did. The mood between them was strange but mostly positive. More so than Oliver ever would've thought possible until today. He still couldn't even believe any of this had happened, but there she was, his high school tormentor about to get on the bus after spending nearly the whole day with him.

Before she boarded, she turned to him with something to say. "Well, this certainly wasn't how I was expecting to spend my Sunday..." she mused, an expectant look in her eyes. "I just hope you learned a thing or two along the way."

"I did. Stacy? I'll be the first to admit you're not so bad anymore."

Stacy frowned. "...But?"

"But," he confirmed. Oliver's heart grew heavy as he struggled to finish the rest of his statement. "I think you'd be better off not hedging your bets on me forgiving you. I'm not blind or incapable of recognizing that you've grown up a lot since we were teens, but that doesn't mean I'll ever get over it. The scars are too deep."

"Huh," Stacy stared at him in silence before mustering a subtle smile. "Why does it feel like I just got dumped?"

"Sorry..."

"Nah, it's fine. I get it." She nodded, having expected this. "As long as you know I didn't hang out with you just because I wanted your forgiveness, we're good."

"Why did you, then?"

"Because I thought it would be fun?" Stacy said as if that were obvious.

"...Was it?"

"Yeah. Lots."

That damn smile of hers, and those damn eyes...

Oliver clenched his fists, staring at the ground. "I... had fun, too..."

And that scared him.

Stacy turned around, taking her first step onto the bus. Looking over her shoulder, she said, "Let me know if you ever need more advice, hon."

There it was again- the vague sense that something wasn't right. Despite what he'd just said, Oliver felt as if ending their encounter like this was the wrong thing to do. This was stupid. He wasn't lying a moment ago when he said the scars were too deep, and yet...

"Wait-" Oliver called after her.

Stacy turned around and looked back at him, confused. Oliver didn't actually have anything to say. He'd only spoken up because of a compulsion telling him to do so. She was staring. Waiting. Things were so much weirder now, and Oliver had precious seconds to respond before things were catapulted past awkward and straight into cringe-worthy territory if they hadn't already.

He latched onto the first thing that came to mind and went for it. "Before you go, can I get your number?"

Things went quiet. Stacy blinked, then stepped backward, her face tensing up uncomfortably. "...Um, why do you want it?"

--- Stacy Lost 1 Affection ---

Why? That was a good question. Why Stacy's affection just dropped was an even better one.

Oliver had entirely lost the plot. Sure, he'd made things weird, but was that really enough to trigger that response? Or was it that, for whatever reason, Stacy really didn't like the idea of giving him her number? He wasn't even making an honest attempt to get it; he just thought that asking for it made sense, given she'd just offered to help him out more in the future.

That Stacy looked put off confused Oliver. It wasn't instant disgust or revulsion, but it was definitely noticeable. Maybe it shouldn't have been so puzzling. He'd been blinded by her friendly attitude today, but Stacy's almost negative fifty affection for him meant she hated him, didn't it? It certainly implied she didn't actually like him, and yet... there wasn't a single point today at which she came off as disingenuous.

Oliver's brain hurt, and adding to how fucked all of this was, so did his heart.

The disappointment he experienced when Mia first got upset at him after going on autopilot was back and just as intense. It shouldn't have felt as bad as it did. Why should he care if the girl he hated for ruining his life suddenly thought less of him? That would be stupid. Downright moronic, really.

He had to shrug it off, Oliver realized. Pretend he hadn't said anything, move on with his life, and go back to having as little to do with Stacy as possible from here on out. Simple.

Oliver didn't do that.

"You just offered to give me more advice, right?" He blurted out, mouth moving faster than his mind. "What if I need feedback on an outfit before heading out on a date or something?"

It took her a minute, but Stacy eased up and lowered her guard. She was a little embarrassed about it as she slapped her forehead and laughed under her breath. "Right. Totally, that makes sense..."

--- Stacy Gained 1 Affection ---

"Here, let's make this quick," Stacy extended her hand, expecting Oliver to pass his phone over. He did, though much more nervously than when he did it with Mia. The results were the same. Stacy put in her number and handed it back to him. The bus driver started looking irritated by how long she took, so she got on board and waved him off.

"Don't be shy, now! Hit me up whenever you want."

--- Milestone Achieved! Got Stacy's Number +5LP ---

Oliver learned a very important lesson just now. It didn't matter if he could see a magic number correlating to how much a woman liked him; he was no closer to understanding the enigma of the female mind. How Stacy bounced from looking at him like he was gross for asking for her number to giving him permission to text her whenever he wanted with a smile on her face was frankly beyond him, and was stressful to think about.

He stood at the bus stop, watching it take off with an uneasy feeling in his heart. Safe to say that he didn't think he would be doing any more drawing tonight. All he wanted to do was sit down and decompress, so back to the apartment he went.

The day he spent with Stacy repeated itself in his head. He dwelled on everything, from the coffee shop to the haircut and one-man fashion show and everything in between. It felt as if Pandora's box had been opened, and every last one of the trapped emotions now rampaged inside him, both the good and the bad.

He showered, which didn't help, and then he did a couple of reps with his dumbbells, and neither did that.

Even catching Bradley up to speed via texting didn't do much to calm Oliver's mind. His friend was happy that he took his advice and had made so much progress with Stacy, but he turned Bradley down when he offered to come over and discuss what troubled him. Oliver kind of just wanted to be alone right now, and Bradley respected that.

Maybe Mia might've been able to help, but Oliver tried texting her again, and still no response. He didn't even feel like going through his skills. He was up to seventy-five LP now, but at this point, he was definitely starting to think he could go without Selective Hearing and wasn't in a rush to pick up anything else. Better to save them and spend them on problems that cropped up, Oliver thought.

Before going to bed, Oliver stared at himself in front of the mirror. He wondered if he'd ever get used to seeing a vaguely cute guy looking back at him instead of a former incel. After taking a deep breath, Oliver engaged in his ritual.

"You're a fucking idiot," he said to himself. "One halfway decent hang out session together, and your heart flutters over Stacy Lynn?" Oliver gave it a moment as if expecting his inner Gollum to manifest and back-sass him.

When that didn't happen, he continued, "It's okay to not hate her as much as you used to- hell, that's what all the therapy was for- but feeling all weird about her is completely off the table! You're just... I'm just so desperate for affection that a cute smile is all it takes to win me over..."

Oliver closed his eyes and took another deep breath, deeper still than before. When he reopened his eyelids, genuine conviction appeared in his expression. He'd successfully pushed down his doubts, saying, "And that's okay. Stacy doesn't mean anything to me, Mia does."

Letting out a relieved sigh, Oliver accepted what had happened that day. He felt a little attracted to Stacy, mostly enjoyed his time with her, was upset about the thing at the end with her phone number, and that was all there was to it. It was liberating to accept the truth and for things to snap back into place. His main priority was pursuing Mia, and as conflicted as he felt, he hadn't forgiven Stacy.

Still...

Oliver noticed something in his reflection as he accepted and processed his feelings healthily. A trick of the light, maybe, but his expression seemed to shift. It looked like he was smiling. Grinning smugly, even. Whispering into his own ear...

The heart wants what the heart wants, and yours wants what it always has. One will never be enough for someone like you.

Oliver was tempted to punch the mirror. Instead, he settled for three simple words.

"Fuck you, Gollum."