"So she's like, 'Oh my gosh, Sylvain, I had such a great night, when would you wanna go again?' This chick just bled my wallet at a mall for three hours, so there's absolutely no way I'm thinking of a second date, but I can't tell her that. So, what do I say?"
A brief pause. "I tell her I'm moving in a week, and that I'll probably never see her again! And get this—she buys it! Says she wishes me the best of luck!" Uproarious laughter from a sole person. "So, basically, I can't ever go to the west side of town ever again!"
"Riveting," another voice drawled from the table of three, followed by the sound of a page turning. The table's other occupant remained silent, finishing up a sandwich. The storyteller feigned a sound of emotional injury. "And after I was so generous as to tell you two about my exciting weekend. Have a heart, Lysithea."
"I don't remember asking. Do you, Byleth?" The male Eisner shook his head between bites. "Didn't think so."
"Remind me not to tell you anything fun ever again," Sylvain grumbled.
"That's kinda messed up," Byleth managed after swallowing his food. "She sounded really into you."
"Yeah, well, as entertaining as it was, it felt more like a chore than a date. I just couldn't see us together like that." He shrugged. "Best for all involved to break it off before anybody's feelings got hurt."
"And if, by some random encounter, you see her again and have to explain that you didn't actually move?"
"I'll cross that bridge if I get there."
Careless as ever, but he wouldn't be Sylvain Jose Gautier if he wasn't breaking women's hearts on a weekly basis. A renowned flirt (Lysithea was more fond of the term "irredeemable slut"), Sylvain's life purpose was to apparently try to bang any woman with a pulse and a rack. That included Byleth's own sister—which was how they had met.
At first, he was another shameless philanderer using him as a tool to get in his sister's pants. Repeated conversations followed when his sister inevitably rejected him. Sylvain was nothing if not determined. The rejections continued piling, though Sylvain kept making time to seek him out for chats. At some point, they'd stopped talking about his sister altogether. "You know, you're actually a pretty cool guy," he'd told him once.
They had quite a few things in common, as it turned out. Sylvain enjoyed fishing on weekends, and on occasion invited Byleth for a few hours by the lake. Though he was averse to sweating ("I hate smelling bad," he had explained), he was a bit of a jock too. Beyond their similarities, Sylvain was apparently much more than meets the eye. He was much smarter than people gave him credit for, a devoted friend, and even enjoyed therapeutic yoga, which was apparently a thing that people did.
Deep down, Sylvain was a genuinely good person. He'd been vulnerable enough to reveal some of his more intimate issues to Byleth, and when he'd offered a mix of harsh truth and comfort, Sylvain had called him a brother. Byleth had never imagined he'd become good friends with someone formerly using him to get to his sister, but Sylvain proved to be the sole exception.
"Well, enough about me," Sylvain moved on, leaning back into his chair. The three were parked at a shaded table at the local park for lunch. Sylvain had deemed it perfect weather for a break between classes. "How was your weekend?"
"Well, if you must know—"
"Wasn't talking to you, shrimp. I was talking to Byleth." Lysithea looked eager to insult him, but kept to herself and deferred to the other male present. Though, he seemed very hesitant to speak, if the grimace on his face was any indication.
The fact wasn't lost on Sylvain. "What's up? Tough weekend? Everything at the shop okay?"
"It's not the shop," Byleth quickly assured. How he wished it was something as easy and fixable as the shop. "Take a guess."
A brief pause, before Sylvain and Lysithea answered in unison. "Byleth?" The navy-haired teen sighed. "Byleth."
"What trouble'd she get you into this time?" Sylvain asked. "Better yet, let me guess. Night on the town gone wrong?"
"Nah, totally the beach." Lysithea guessed. "Dollar it's the beach." Byleth raised a brow. When had they started betting?
Well, it didn't really matter. "It was the beach." He pretended not to see Lysithea smirk victoriously, opening a palm that Sylvain deposited a buck in. "She dragged me out on Saturday."
"Yikes," Sylvain winced in sympathy. "Who was it this time?"
"Two girls. I think they go here. One of them had white hair.. Ada... Layla..." It finally came to him. "Edelgard, I think?"
Were this a cartoon, this would have been the moment where Sylvain did a spit take. As it were, he simply choked on his tea. "Grmph—! You said Edelgard?"
"Pretty sure."
"Edelgard? Edelgard von Hresvelg? You're certain it was that Edelgard?"
Was there another Edelgard with white hair that he was unaware of? It was a pretty unique name. "Yeah. Why's it a big deal?"
Sylvain raised his arms, incredulous. "Why's it a big deal? Dude, do you hear yourself? Edelgard is the damn president of the student body council!"
Byleth's eyes narrowed slightly. "... we have a student body council?"
"You're hopeless," Sylvain groaned, leaning back into his seat. Lysithea took pity on him and took over. "What Sylvain's trying to say is that Edelgard's a pretty big deal. She comes from money, she's probably gonna be valedictorian, and she's hot. Don't think she's much into dating, either, so this is a rare thing." She took a sip of her drink. "Pretty high-profile girl to be taking interest in your sister."
Okay, when they put it like that, it did sound like a big deal. At least he remembered why she sounded so familiar. Being the school's it-girl would certainly do it. "I mean, she seemed pretty nice, objectively speaking."
"Yeah, well, she's a lot more than just nice," Sylvain rejoined the conversation, lowering his voice. "You didn't hear this from me, but I heard that she placed second in the official school-wide ranking of the hottest girls on campus. Behind your sister, of course."
Lysithea nearly dropped her drink. Byleth looked horrified. Only the former was able to form a coherent sentence. "We have an official ranking?"
"Look, I don't agree with it, but that's what I've heard." Sylvain put his hands up in defense. "Just trying to drive the point home."
"How do you even know that?"
Sylvain's stare gained a few hundred yards. "You're not the only one cursed with knowledge."
Byleth was still a bit hung up on the disturbing revelation about the nature of his school, and their thoughts regarding his sister. His face darkened. "I'm gonna kill them." Lysithea revealed a capsule of pepper spray. "I'll come with you."
"Okay, hold your horses," Sylvain quickly circled around the table and placed calming hands on his friends' shoulders. "As appreciated and understandable as your righteous fury is, I can't have my friends committing homicide. Let's all take a breather, alright?" He nodded toward Byleth. "You wanna finish your second sandwich?"
Byleth took a moment, and sighed. He was still pretty hungry. And he could always kick whoever's ass it was that made the list later. Settling back into his seat, he got to work on his second hoagie with a disgruntled crunch.
Sylvain returned to his spot across the two. "In any case, shouldn't we be celebrating? Your sister might hook up with the university's queen bee! She'd probably be set for life if things took off! You'd never have to worry about your sister ever again!"
"I don't think that's the problem," Lysithea, astute as ever, noticed. "What's wrong, Byleth?"
Byleth deflected. "It's nothing." Lysithea wasn't having it. "Nuh-uh, we're not doing this. You tell me what's wrong this instant, Byleth Eisner, or so help me your sister's love life will be the very least of your concerns."
It was only due to Byleth's longstanding friendship with her that he didn't outwardly wilt beneath her words. How such a diminutive girl could prompt so much fear within him was a mystery he doubted he'd ever solve. Still, despite her demeanor, she did seem like she genuinely wanted to help.
Well, there wasn't any use in hiding anything from her. The glare she was giving him promised death if he lied. He relented, in the end. "I guess I'm just... a little tired."
"Of what?"
"Of this whole thing," Byleth slumped slightly. This was going to be difficult—he wasn't very good with words. "I mean, I get it, my sister's cool. She's personable and approachable, and I guess people think she's attractive."
"You guess?" Sylvain snorted, ignoring the glare from Lysithea that followed. Byleth continued. "But at some point, it'd be nice to be treated like my own person instead of an accessory to her, you know? Like, when people come up to me, I'm conditioned to think that it's because they want to talk to her. I don't think that's healthy."
He sighed. "I don't know. I guess at the end of the day, I want people to see me as Byleth Eisner, not... Byleth Eisner's brother." He realized how awkward that sounded out loud. Thanks, mom and dad.
Sylvain reached across the table and patted his hand in comfort. "I'm amazed you aren't an incel yet."
"A... what?"
"Never mind. If it's any consolation, we think you're pretty cool. Don't we, Lysithea?"
"Cool's a relative term," Lysithea shrugged. Byleth rolled his eyes as Lysithea dropped the act. "Kidding. You know we love you, Byleth."
For as much grief as his friends gave him, he appreciated the sentiment. Sylvain was a horny skirt-chaser, and Lysithea was an irritable brat, but they were still his best friends. There were worse people in the world to find company in.
"I think I know your problem," Sylvain shot him a cool smile. "Byleth, my man, we need to get you laid."
And now his blood pressure was high again. "I'm sorry?" Lysithea seemed to echo his shock, her pale face the tiniest tinge of red. "H-huh?"
"Okay, let me rephrase," Sylvain remembered who he was talking to. "Byleth, I think you're a good dude. You're not that bad looking, either. I think if we get you out there and meeting people, you'll really be able to get yourself out from Byleth's shadow!"
Lysithea had regained her composure, as well as her overt displeasure. "Just because sleeping around with used-up whores makes you feel better doesn't mean it'll make him feel better, Sylvain."
"Yeesh, so harsh. We might need to get you laid too, Lysithea." The embarrassed and incensed squeak from the girl provided enough of a distraction for him to continue his conversation with Byleth. "Come on, Byleth. It's the sexual revolution! You're free to do whatever you want—with consent, of course. If you clean yourself up a little bit, I think you'd be a big hit with the ladies."
Notions of a sexual revolution aside, Byleth questioned the last part of his friend's assertion. "Clean myself up?" Sylvain lips pursed. "Byleth, I mean this in the nicest way possible. Your sense of style isn't exactly doing you any favors right now."
And what was so wrong with what he wore? It was a nice day out today, so he'd settled for some loose gray sweatpants and a short-sleeved merch shirt from his dad's shop. It was soft and durable, and it never hurt to advertise the family business while he was out and about. "But I feel comfortable in these."
"And that's fine! You can wear those kinds of things literally anywhere else," Sylvain reassured him. "But what I'm saying is that, in front of pretty women, sweatpants and fishing shirts aren't gonna cut it. You gotta look nice, man! Make yourself stand out!"
"And how do I do that?"
"Well, we'd have to get you looking sharp." Sylvain inspected him from across the table. Byleth didn't quite like the attention. "Yeah, some dress shirts would do. Get you some skinny pants, too. We could even fiddle with your hair a bit, add some real pizzazz to it. Ooh, and rings!" He donned a knowing expression. "Bitches love rings."
"Okay, okay, that's enough," Lysithea cut in. "Have you considered that Byleth doesn't feel comfortable prancing around like some mass-produced boy band member?"
Sylvain nodded solemnly. "Believe me, I get it. However, sacrifices have to be made in the name of the game."
"I don't know," Byleth was unsure. Never mind that he didn't particularly like tight or restrictive clothing (he much preferred the freedom of movement that came with his usual attire), he wasn't sure if he was willing to undergo a whole transformation for the sake of getting laid.
Lysithea, bless her heart, was still squarely on his side. "Say he goes with your plan. He undergoes this little makeover, goes with whatever you say, and lands some floozy who likes this facade of his. What then? He keeps up the charade forever, for a girl that won't even like the real him?"
"Relax, I'm not telling him to change his whole personality. I think we can both agree that the quiet, brooding type works well for him, yeah?" Lysithea folded her arms with a grouchy look, but her silence was answer enough. "Thought so. I'm just saying that we change his outward appearance, so that once girls start talking to him and getting to know him better, they get swept off their feet by his wonderful personality. Make sense?"
Lysithea was skeptical. "I still think this is all a stupid waste of time." Sylvain was about to retort, before a knowing grin spread across his face. "Ah, I get it." Lysithea didn't like that at all. "Get what?"
"You don't have to tell me—I've seen this movie plenty of times before." His smirk was infuriating. "You sly fox, Lysithea. I see the game you're playing."
"I don't know what delusion you're cooking up in that empty space you call a brain, but I'm telling you to cut it out now." Despite her scathing words, Sylvain didn't relent. "No need for threats. I, for one, think it's sweet."
If looks could kill, Sylvain wouldn't have survived the next few seconds. "You're dead, Gautier." She'd been about ready to storm over there and unleash all of her five-foot flat fury, before Byleth grabbed her arm. "I don't know what you two are arguing about, but please don't fight." The girl eyed him, then the hand on her arm, before returning to her seat with a huff. Still, Sylvain looked far too pleased with himself. "Oh, that's adorable."
Byleth wasn't quite sure what had Lysithea so up in arms, but it must have been personal for her to get worked up like this. Granted, she got worked up a lot, but promises of death were few and far between. Maybe it was an inside thing between the two of them that she was embarrassed about. Sylvain had a habit of pushing buttons whenever it was convenient for him.
An expertly-timed buzz from Sylvain's phone conveniently broke up the brief spell of silence. Upon reading the notification, Sylvain's grin widened. "Well, would you look at that? Seems you might not be so unlucky after all, Byleth."
He'd be the judge of that. "What's happening?"
"A friend of mine just hit me up. She's planning a kickback at her place this weekend, wants me to come. She's always a good time, so I think I'll bite." His eyes fell on Byleth. "Something tells me she wouldn't mind me bringing a plus-one, too."
Byleth supposed that was how the lives of popular folks went. Plans made at the drop of a hat. Was this how things were for his sister? "Oh, cool. Have fun."
"Byleth, I'm talking about you. You're my plus-one."
Huh? "Me?"
"Duh. Is there another Byleth around?" He quickly interrupted before Byleth could answer. "Okay, bad counter, that's on me. Point is, you're coming with me, no debates."
Him? Attending a kickback? The most he'd done in terms of partying in college was hanging out with the two people seated beside him. He'd never actually bothered going to an actual function before. "Are you sure? Kickbacks aren't really my scene."
"I'm positive," Sylvain reassured. "What better place to introduce the new and stylish you? If there's one thing I can count on at any kickback of Hilda's, it's that she always delivers on a solid crowd of pretty girls. Trust me, there'll be plenty of women to impress."
That just made him more nervous. "I don't know..."
"Oh, come on. What'll it take for you to go? You want Little Miss von Ordelia to tag along?" He turned to the girl in question. "How's about it? Down for a fun night out with your pals?"
"I'd rather die than go anywhere with you," Lysithea spat. She was much more amicable when she turned to Byleth. "Hey, don't worry about it. If it's lame, you can always swing by my place. We can read or game, whatever you're up for." It was sweet of her to offer, though Byleth didn't think he'd have much of a choice in when it was he left. "Thanks."
"God, you two are nerds." Sylvain rolled his eyes. "Well, doesn't matter what you do after, because I just texted Hilda to let her know that you're for sure going." Another buzz. "Oh, and look at that, she OK'd it! Looks like you and I are getting rowdy this Saturday, Byleth." The reserved teen sighed. Well, no getting out of it now, he supposed.
It was a chance to separate himself a little bit from his sister, sure. But was it worth changing his entire appearance and demeanor? It felt like such a long and arduous stretch for a scheme that wasn't even guaranteed to change anything. He appreciated Sylvain for looking out for him, really, but this was a lot.
He looked to Lysithea for help. She only offered him an apologetic look of her own. It seemed his fate was truly sealed.
