Nightingale, Nightingale

O moon, O moon,

Have you seen that nightingale?

It sings on a high branch.

It has eyes like black pearls, soft feathers, and a light, lilting voice.

It sits on a high, high... unreachable branch,

Singing songs of its love for me.

At the beginning of the story,

the moon loved the nightingale, the nightingale loved the rose, and the rose loved the moon.

A poor, tenacious, brooding rose who claws her way up (ESTP) × a cool, taciturn, top-tier investor moon (ISTJ) × an innocent, wealthy heiress nightingale (INFJ)

Basically, a rich heiress nightingale, secretly loved and watched over as she grew up by the moon, spends a fortune to make the rose smile. But the rose, who has been plotting all along, swindles the heiress out of her entire fortune, uses her money to build up her own reputation, steps on the nightingale to pursue the moon, then eventually realizes she never loved the moon at all, but the nightingale, and starts to regret everything. A melodramatic story of a white moonlight turning into a mosquito bite.

Just writing for fun.

It's genuinely melodramatic. I'm writing without restraint, on a whim in the middle of the night. I'll write whenever I feel like it, and it'll be an absolute mess.

Read at your own risk.

"If I could find you, I would love you. But where are you? If we stripped away your need to perform, took away your acting skills, peeled away your pretenses, your false affections, the lines from all the roles you've played, and the remnants of their faded emotions, layer by layer, like peeling an onion, would we find a soul at the end?"

W. Somerset Maugham, Theatre

Ending: 1v1

Theme: Love is sincere, not an act.