The moon hung low over the Eternal Kingdom, its soft glow barely cutting through the thick clouds. Standing at the edge of a balcony, gazing out into the endless darkness, was Prince… uh… Broody. Yeah, that’s what we’re going with. He stood tall, cape billowing dramatically behind him, his jawline so sharp it could cut through plot holes.

Ugh, does every fantasy prince have to stand on a balcony at night? Seriously? What, do they just hand out a “Brooding 101” certificate at royal school? Also, wait, why is he on a balcony again? Oh well, whatever, it’s “aesthetic,” so let’s roll with it.

Prince Broody (Thinking Deep Thoughts):
“There is more to life than this eternal existence… more than duty, more than—”

Ew, no, we are NOT doing the emo ‘there’s more to life’ thing. Let’s get a little more spice in here.
Delete delete delete.

Chapter 1.1: Broody, But Make It Seasonal

Prince Broody now stood at the edge of his balcony with a pumpkin spice latte in hand, staring dramatically at the horizon. His cape still fluttered for no reason, because obviously, that’s what capes do.

Much better. Now he’s giving "sad boy fall" vibes. Let’s keep going.

Broody (Sipping his PSL):
“There’s got to be more than this... more than endless royal duties, more than—"

OMG, I’m already bored. Let’s move on before I delete him entirely.

Meanwhile, far below in the village of Thistlebrook, Elara—no, wait, is that too basic? Whatever, it’s sticking for now—stared at her reflection in a pond as though she was waiting for a Disney song to start. Her long auburn hair floated behind her like some kind of shampoo commercial, but honestly, who even has time to care about hair in a fantasy world?

Elara (Thinking Deep Thoughts™):
“There has to be more to life than this small village. I feel a yearning deep in my soul—”

Ew, who actually yearns? Is that even a real feeling? Can’t we just give her, like, relatable TikTok existential dread or something? Yearning is so last century.
Backspace backspace.

Elara looked at her reflection in the pond and sighed. “Great. My hair’s a mess, my enchanted mirror is glitching, and now I have to ‘find my destiny.’ What even is that?”

Better. Now she’s not some Disney princess. She’s just... over it.

Scene Shift – Market Square:

Prince Broody, now latte-less (because I deleted it), wandered through the market square, dramatically brooding because, well, that’s kind of his thing. His eyes, stormy and mysterious, scanned the crowd for... something. But before he could spot it, Elara (who was ‘definitely not like other girls’, because why not) bumped right into him, sending her basket of enchanted herbs flying across the cobblestone.

Elara:
“Oh my god, I am so sorry!”

Ugh, too cliché. Hold up.

Elara tripped—like, full-on faceplant—in front of Prince Broody, spilling her enchanted herbs across the cobblestone.

Prince Broody (Taking a slow sip of his PSL):
“...”

Elara:
“Well, that was embarrassing.”

Wait. Wait, wait, wait—WHAT. HOLD UP. Where did the PSL come from?!? I literally deleted that. 

The two finally lock eyes. Elara’s heart skips a beat as Prince Broody stares into her soul with the intensity of a thousand fan theories waiting to be debunked. The air between them crackles with tension, as if the whole world has been leading to this moment.

Wait, am I really about to let them kiss already? Isn’t this, like, Chapter 1? WAY too soon. This needs more buildup. Let’s just backtrack and throw in some enemies-to-lovers vibes or something. Hold up, scrapping the whole romantic tension scene.

As Elara leaned in, Broody pulled back, eyeing her with suspicion.

Broody:
“I’m sorry, did you just drop, like, enchanted poison on me?”

Elara:
“Oh, um... maybe?”

OKAY, I literally don’t know where this is going anymore. Does anyone actually care about Prince Broody and Elara at this point? Because I’m just out here winging it. 😩 Should I just kill one of them off for drama? OMG, no, even I can’t do that. Not yet.

Prince Broody and Elara are finally about to kiss, but instead, the scene glitches out (thanks to some random Teaser 8 energy that I accidentally copy-pasted into the draft), and the characters freeze mid-romance.

Elara (Frozen):
“Is this it? Are we stuck like this?”

Broody:
“Probably."

Hmm... Wait, wait, wait. This is way too soon for them to meet. What am I doing? There’s supposed to be, like, tension, right? Gotta make them work for it. Backspace!

So now, instead of colliding in the market square, Prince Broody took a sharp turn toward the castle gates, successfully avoiding Elara entirely. Disaster averted—for now.

Phew, that was close. Okay, so here's the deal, reader besties. You probably didn’t notice, but I did—I almost had my two main characters meet too early, which would have totally derailed my entire very well thought-out plot. It’s, like, basic ‘storytelling 101’ that they have to meet later. This is for the slow burn, right? But then again... What if I did let them meet early and then just deleted it? Wouldn’t that be wild?

Okay, focus, Bree. Moving on.

Prince Broody continued his brooding as he walked toward the castle gates, deep in thought, wondering about life, destiny, and whether his existence had any meaning beyond the endless parade of royal obligations.

Great, everything is under control. Just keep him far away from—

Suddenly, out of nowhere, Broody’s hand twitched, and for a brief second, he was holding a pumpkin spice latte again.

Wait, what? Again? Why is the PSL back? I literally just erased that scene. Is this a glitch? Whatever, keep going.

Prince Broody (Frowning, Staring at His Hand):
"...Was I holding a drink? No... impossible." He shakes his head, banishing the thought, and continues walking.

Down in Thistlebrook, Elara wandered through the village, not yet having met Broody (obviously, because I just rewrote it), but something was off. She passed a mirror and caught a glimpse of something strange—herself, but not quite. Her reflection flickered for a moment, revealing a version of her with messy hair and a confused expression.

Elara (Stopping in Her Tracks):
"Huh, my hair looks kinda weird in this mirror... or is that even me?" She shook her head. "Must be a trick of the light. Definitely not a glitch."

OMG, this is so weird, but I kind of love it. 

Back in the castle, Prince Broody stood at the edge of a high balcony (again) and gazed into the distance (again), but this time something felt... off. The air crackled with tension, like a storm was brewing.

Broody (Frowning, Again):
"There’s something... wrong. I feel like I’ve lived through this moment before."

Okay, I’m officially spiraling. Like, HOW am I supposed to choose between these tropes? Do I go full-on enemies-to-lovers? Maybe that classic "they hate each other but secretly want to kiss" energy? It’s spicy, sure, but ugh, overdone much? I can’t just be Basic Bree over here, right? Deletes all the tension.

Or... do I go for the fake dating angle? You know, where they’re pretending but then it gets too real, and suddenly they’re staring at each other like "Wait, are we faking this anymore, or...?" But honestly, isn’t that a bit too fanfic circa 2013?

Okay, but what if I combine them? Like, enemies-to-lovers, but with fake dating on top?

...

Wait, no. That’s just a shipper’s fever dream. Backspace backspace backspace.

Okay, hear me out: mutual pining. They BOTH like each other, but they’re too dumb to realize the other one feels the same. Elara will be all "Does Prince Broody even know I exist?" while sipping her enchanted latte, and Broody will be like "OMG, she’s so cute when she’s pretending she doesn’t like me, but I can’t let her know I think she’s cute, so I’ll just brood harder." Sigh.

...No, too predictable.

Broody (Brooding Intensifies):
"I’ll never tell her how I feel. She could never love someone as dark and mysterious as I am."

Ugh, dark and mysterious? Get over yourself, Broody.
Backspace backspace.

Broody (Revamped):
"I should probably tell her she’s cute, but what if she doesn’t like me? I’m, like, 80% sure she thinks I’m just some weirdo with a cape."

Elara (Somehow In This Scene Too?):
"Does he even know I’m standing right here? Like, two feet away? Should I trip on purpose just so we have something to talk about?"

LOL, yes, relatable. But wait—NO, I can’t make her that desperate. We’re not doing clumsy-girl trope. Or... are we?

OMG, why is every romance trope both amazing and terrible at the same time? Like, how do people actually write these without cringing at themselves 24/7? Am I supposed to pick one and run with it, or do I just keep mashing tropes together like I’m throwing darts at a dartboard made of romantic cliches?

And don’t even get me started on the slow burn. Like, do I make them pine for each other until Chapter 38, or are we kissing by Chapter 12? WHAT DO READERS WANT? WHY AM I STILL TALKING TO MYSELF?

Okay, new plan. Let’s make this weird. Let’s make Prince Broody aware he’s trapped in this ridiculous romance. Like, he knows he’s supposed to fall in love with Elara, but he’s over it.

Broody, staring off into the sunset:
"I can’t believe this is my life now. I’m a literal trope."

Elara, adjusting her enchanted hair tie:
"What are you talking about?"

Broody (still dramatically brooding):
"Nothing, it’s just... why do I always have to be the one who broods? What if I want to be the comic relief, huh? Why can’t I be quirky for once?"

LOL. I’ve officially broken my own story, but let’s just roll with it.

Okay, at this point, I’m just throwing vibes at the wall. Am I writing a romance? Am I writing a post-modern meme about writing a romance? Probably both, and honestly, I’m too far gone to care. 

But seriously, why is it so HARD to decide if I want to be super sincere or go full chaotic neutral? I’m about one latte away from turning this entire plot into some kind of philosophical argument about why romance tropes are the real villains. But would anyone even read that? Probably not, bestie.

Prince Broody (Who Might Now Be a Meme Lord):
"I’m not like other princes."

Elara (Deadpan):
"Bro, you’re literally the blueprint for every brooding prince ever."

Broody (Defensive, Holding His PSL):
"Yeah, well, at least I have a pumpkin spice latte. That’s something, right?"

Elara (Sipping Her Own Enchanted Drink):
"Sigh. Yeah, it’s something."

Honestly, what even is this story anymore? I’ve written, like, four different versions of this scene and none of them make sense. Am I a literary genius? Probably. Am I also losing my mind? Definitely.

But that’s the creative process, right?

Right??

Wait, wait—what if the story just... stops? Like, there’s no kiss, no resolution, no enemies-to-lovers fake-dating mutual pining moment. What if Broody and Elara just sit there, sipping their lattes, staring into the distance like they’re waiting for the next scene that never arrives?

Broody (Breaking the Fourth Wall Again):
"Is this it? Is this all we are? Just a series of interrupted moments and tropes that never go anywhere?"

Elara (Equally Confused):
"I don’t know. Bree can’t decide what she wants us to be. We might be stuck here forever."

Broody:
"So... are we, like, in love now? Or was that just a plot thing?"

Elara:
"Honestly? I have no idea. Let’s just call it a day."

OMG. That’s it. I am a literal genius. Or maybe this is just the caffeine talking. Either way, I’m done for now. 

Okay, besties, that’s it. I tried to give you a romantic fantasy epic, but it kind of... fell apart. But hey, that’s life, right? Full of plot holes, unfinished arcs, and a lot of deleted scenes. ✨