PHASE 12 EXTRA - THE FRIENDZONE CLUB PROMOTION

Hey guys, your king Alaric Eisenhower is here. I know you missed my narration, but sadly, I won’t be doing it for a while. But hey, at least you will be with the arrogant heartthrob for this filler chapter.

I’m about to enter the organization that I have convicted myself into, the Friendzone Club. Their office is just beside the locker rooms, a few meters away from the dirty storage room. Well, the club office was originally the Storage Room 1, but who cares. At least the club has an office.

I’m holding a hiking bag full of school supplies. It’s quite heavy, but it’s required for me to do this. I also have this envelope that contains my formal documents in this club.

When I opened the door, I was wordlessly welcomed by a man in a plague doctor’s cloak.

We both had a stare for about five seconds until he finally spread his arm, pointing to the bench. He’s silently saying “Have a seat.”

I know it’s creepy, but you’ll get used to it.

The club room is not different from the storage room nearby. It’s quite a mess. There are plague doctors surrounding a pentagram, muttering creepy chants.

There is also this one plague doctor that is holding a naked barbie. He is puncturing it with a needle while laughing like a sadistic madman.

And some of the best-voiced plague doctors are singing “Ph’nglui mglw’nafh Cthulhu R’lyeh wgah’nagl ftaghn.” repeatedly while dabbing left and right. I don’t want to look at them. I don’t even want to listen. I hope I won’t turn into Cthulhu.

I sat silently and stared nervously at the ceiling. I made a deep inhale and sighed with a heavy exhale. I should be fine. I should be fine. I muttered to myself.

Suddenly, I heard a loud yell that says “Next!!!”

The plague doctor beside me nodded, and I nodded back. Then, he escorted me to the Friendzone Club President’s Office.

<>

In front of me is the club president, sitting on his desk. He’s a black man wearing leather armor and shades that would easily mistake him as Blade from the movie Blade (Duh). But instead of wielding guns, he’s holding a banana.

He’s Mark Kevin Smith. The President...or more like the Servant-Leader of the Friendzone Club. He gave me the warm welcome with his deep voice.

“Welcome, King Alaric Eisenhower, the first of his name, God of Arrogance and Rejection, Right Hand of the Anti-Feminism Rebellion, Co-Author of the Demonic Cutie-Poll, and a certified asshole. What can I do for you?”

“You already know why I came here, Your Grace.” I bowed elegantly like an aristocrat, then I presented him my application paper.

“This is…” the President is shocked. “This is an application for the promotion into a High Priest… Are you sure you have what it takes to be fit in that position?”

“Of course.” I smirked.

The President started to read my application form. “Your recent rejection by the Ultimate Idol Tiara Hikari certainly grants you the privilege for this position. You have already complied the requirements of crying twelve days and twelve nights without anyone seeing your manly tears. But the last requirement… You know what is it, right?”

“Yes, Your Grace. The offering to the god of Friendzones.” I bowed again as I presented my offering, which my large hiking bag.

“Let’s see what you can contribute with our society.” The president said.

He opened the bag with his rough fingers and started to peek at the items inside it. He’s quite fazed by the things I bought.

The first thing he withdrew out of my bag is a dozen of tissue rolls.

“This is the most used item in this club.” The president smirked. “Good thing you brought a lot.”

“Of course.” I said. “Lonely people who are stuck in the friendzone needs those things a lot… for various stuff…”

The president nodded as he maintained his smile. Then he went on to reveal more things from my bag.

The next thing his hands drew is a wireless controller from a gaming console.

“Why did you bring an Xbox controller?” The president asked.

“I brought one to be a memento that will remind each and everyone here in the Friendzone Club that girls love playing games. It shall remind them to be wary of girls trying to flirt with them.” I said.

After that, I muttered under my voice. “F*ck you, Tiara.”

“I see. I see.” The president sounds convinced.

Then he proceeded to the inspection. The next thing he pulled out from my offering kit is a map of Dradecim City.

“This is…” The president had his eye widened. “This is the map to the promised land!”

The “Promised Land” he’s talking about are the nightclubs. In that map, I have encircled the bars that can entertain senior high school students like us. I even marked the trails and shortcuts leading to those places.

“We will surely have a good use of that map once somebody gets friendzoned again.” I said.

“You’re a god in a human body!” The president praised me. Well, I’m a real god in Norse Mythology. Duh.

The president continued to drag more things from my bag. This time, it was a bootleg dress-up figure of Hatsune Miku. The flaws in the plastic quality are so obvious that the president almost tossed it to the trash can.

“What is this!?” Now he’s angry.

“That’s a fake anime figure.” I said with an assuring smile. “This is to remind everyone that there are lots of fake and plastic girls in the campus. Just like that thing.”

“Hmmm…” The president calmed down a bit as he thinks it through. “I guess so.” He said in a convinced manner.

Then, his hands pulled the last thing on my bag.

“This is…” The president has no more words to convey. He should have realized how determined I am to be the Friendzone Club’s High Priest.

“Yes. That is the ultimate thing that can remove all problems in this world. That thing can cure cancer, prevent war in the Middle East, and the solution to inflation and vexing taxes.” I said.

The last item is a one-liter bottle of bleach.

The president stood up. “Kneel, glorious king Alaric Eisenhower. We shall do the rites for you to become the Friendzone Club’s High Priest.”

I genuflected with politeness. Then, the black president placed his beloved banana on top of my head, on top of my right shoulder, and lastly, on top of my left shoulder.

“Shalolololololololololo!!!” He began chanting to ward of evil spirits. Before becoming a High Priest, you should have no "evil" within you. So this process is an elective.

“Rejoice, young lad. You have been promoted to High Priest. You are now granted to have access to the privileges of free X-rated magazines, daily doujin updates, Maria Ozawa photo albums, and the URL of the best kitten website.”

“Thank you, Mister President.” I smiled as tears of joy fell down. Finally, one of my dreams came true.

<>

I closed the club room door and I was about to run jollily in the hallway. But then I noticed that something fell from my pocket.

It was a picture.

It’s not just a picture. It’s a precious memory of me and Tiara together. It was the photo Macho Steel gave to me, after Tiara’s very first concert with the Idol Club. We had this hand-heart pose with blushes and smiles on our faces.

I focused my lens on the cute Japanese girl. She didn’t change that much. She’s still adorable and sexy. She’s a bimbo bagel girl that you would like to cuddle the whole day.

For some reason, I had this smile on my face. Reminiscing those memories somehow overlapped the joy of being the High Priest of the Friendzone Club.

“Tiara, you idiot.” I muttered, my words not reaching anyone.

I know that she still loves me. She just freaked out when I confessed. She’s been making her move, trying hard to confess her feelings but ultimately gets interrupted in the end.

“Actions speak louder than words… Toujours et a Jamais... huh?”

I happily put the picture on my wallet as I run towards the classroom.

For now, I have to focus on the upcoming Gate Guardians Tournament and the investigation about the Cursed Guardians trying to steal the God Core of Mars.

But...

I’ll be waiting, Tiara.

I’ll be waiting until you can muster your courage and confess wholeheartedly to me.