A Side Character's Guide to Surviving an Otome Game

Five Years Later

A/N: Alright. Here's the next chapter. Just as a reminder- this is NON CANON COMPLIANT. This means that events and characters will not be like how they were in canon. I have taken it upon myself to pretty much rewrite the characters' personalities. Some of the basic stuff will definitely stay the same, like how Alberu is a scammer and Cale is considered trash and Choi Han is essentially a violent puppy. But their personalities will be different. Please don't expect them to act as they would in canon. Please.

[Five Year Time Skippity]

Ambrose Finley was a simple man, with simple pleasures and needs, despite being one of the wealthiest individuals in the Raon Kingdom. His desires were, unfortunately, not shared by his best friend, the equally wealthy and infinitely more annoying Cale Henituse.

"I refuse to have that touch my body," Ambrose said coolly as Cale pulled out what seemed like the hundredth overly extravagant outfit from his almost never-ending closet of clothes. To be fair, the cloth was significantly less jewel-embedded than the others, but still. Why would someone need literal gold woven among the gray cloth? It just seemed, well, wasteful.

Cale groaned, flinging back his head. The light from the balcony windows hit his bright red hair, making it almost seem to glow in the golden sunlight. Cale was, Ambrose had to begrudgingly admit, extremely handsome- the art from the game had gotten that right, at least. Combined with the ruby-studded red suit, Cale oozed wealthy nobility.

The obnoxious outfits suited Cale in a way that Ambrose was 99% sure would be impossible for him to achieve.

"You gotta wear something, Amby," Cale pleaded, kneeling down to where Ambrose was sitting and gently grabbing his shoulders.

Ambrose huffed before gesturing at his slouched body, fully clothed.

"In something other than black, Amby."

"Black is a good, nice, classic color."

"Sure. For funerals."

The two friends glared at each other, Ambrose's black-brown eyes boring into Cale's. It was true that Ambrose practically exclusively wore black- it was a habit from his life as Kim Rok Soo, and one he had been reluctant to get rid of, in a somewhat nostalgic way. Plus the black looked good on him, in a darker, more intense way.

Ambrose Finley was a simple man, who enjoyed the color black and refused to wear clothes with valuable materials woven into the fabrics. Why was that so hard for Cale to understand?

"I'm wearing the black." He crossed his arms, pulling away from Cale's grasp.

"Come on, Ambrose," Cale pleaded, shaking yet another top at him.

Where was Cale even finding these clothes? Ambrose didn't remember seeing those in his closet.

He wrinkled his nose.

Since when did Ambrose own a hot pink gem-encrusted suit?

"You're not going to convince me, Henituse."

Cale stumbled back playfully, grabbing his chest in fake horror. "Did you just refer to me as Henituse ? Oh, you sick bastard. Do I look like a middle-aged duke to you? Huh?"

Ambrose sighed. "Hand me my cane, you overdramatic noble, and help me up. We have a party to attend."

Cale immediately sobered, as he did whenever Ambrose mentioned his cane, and quickly did as Ambrose said, handing the elegantly carved wooden stick that was leaning on a nearby wall.