A sleek black car pulled up and glided to a stop right next to him.
The driver window rolled down with a quiet whir, and a familiar voice called out, "Hey Valerian, you’re looking a little rough," a voice called out from the driver’s seat. "First time I’ve ever seen you late. Everything alright?"
It was Victor, Valerian’s best friend since high school. A genuine smile spread across Victor’s face as he leaned over from the driver’s seat.
.....
...................
Valerian’s Pov
.......
My mind was filled with questions about Author’s last words and now he’s gone leaving me completely clueless.
But I know I can’t afford to dwell on it if I wanted to make it to class. So I decided to push it all to the back of my mind, at least for now.
With a tired internal sigh I turned towards my buddy in a black car
"Give me a lift if you can," I muttered, my voice tired.
Sigh...
I must have definitely looked terrible because Victor’s friendly smile immediately fell.
"Of course that’s what friends are for" he replied with a smile that looked somewhat worried.
Just as I was about to open the passenger door when an annoyed voice rang through the air from inside the car.
"Are you seriously going to give a lift to him, Victor? We’re going to be late!"
It was Isabella a very familiar person to me. Her sharp gaze directed at me.
But I ignored her completely and slid into the back seat, meeting her stare in the rearview mirror.
"Didn’t know you were carpooling with a bitch today, Victor," I said, my voice deadpan. "Guess you’re a dog person now."
Isabella’s head turned towards me with glare, her face filled with fury. "What did you say, you piece of Shit?!" she snarled.
"I’m just speaking the truth," I replied calmly, crossing my arms. "A girl who got rejected and couldn’t handle it, so she decided to date the friend of the guy who turned her down. That’s a pretty low move, even for you."
"All right, you two, that’s enough!" Victor said, his hand tightening on the steering wheel. "Arguing is not how we’re going to make it to class on time."
Isabella’s anger seemed to deflate. With a reluctant sigh, she turned away from me, her gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside her window.
A subtle sadness softened her face, a fleeting moment of vulnerability that I chose to ignore.
My own problems were too overwhelming to care about hers.
The Author wasn’t with me... At the very least, he was avoiding all contact, like some kind of tsundere.
The thought of the Author not being with me, not even a little hint, made me feel strange.
He was either gone or deliberately avoiding me.
My mother’s strange behavior this morning flashed in my mind.
Was it because of the reason my mother behaved so strangely this morning?
Was this all connected?
What could it be?
Is something terrible going to happen to me?
My imagination ran wild with every terrible possibility:
Am I getting isekai’d?
Or maybe the world is ending; maybe my story was an apocalypse.
All these theories and possibilities emerged in my mind, making my head ache.
No, I can’t give in to my paranoia.
If something terrible is going to happen, I’d try to prevent it.
That’s all I should focus on.
But a part of me was screaming, damn it, if that bastard Author were here, I’d at least get a hint about what’s going to happen! But he was gone.
Maybe that’s why he left—
to leave me clueless and confused so he could laugh at me later.
No, I thought, how could I care whether he’s with me or not? I tried to deny my feelings of loneliness,
but deep down, I knew the truth.
He was the closest person I had to a Parent.
I was born without a proper parent, an unknown father and a mother never bothered to act like one
She felt like a person who was close yet so far away.
He was the only one who guided me when I was lost. And now I was alone again, just like all those years ago.
...
Twelve years ago, a boy sat on the roof of his house, counting the stars under a cool, moonlit sky.
"Hmm, who are you...and why are you talking like a narrator?" he said, his voice startlingly clear as it broke my narration.
You can hear me? I said, a wave of confusion washing over me.
"Loud and clear," he replied, a hint of accusation in his tone. "Are you a pervert? No..then ..A stalker?"
My nonexistent face felt a flush of indignation. No, absolutely not! I’m no stalker.
I am the creator and overseer of your reality.
My voice held a huff of self-importance.
Don’t underestimate me, boy.
You’re just a pawn in my game.
"A creator? Are you a god?" he asked, a mix of confusion and curiosity in his voice.
No, I am a creator of this reality, but not a god, I explained, preening just a little.
I’m responsible for writing the destiny of this world and overseeing its progress.
The so-called gods? They’re just characters in this story, a product of the reality I’ve created.
"You write and call yourself a creator? Does that mean you’re... an Author?" he said, his cute eyes glowing with a beautiful gleam.
Well, you can call me that, I nodded, accepting the title.
Hmm... but now I am in a pickle, I originally wanted to make you an extra, I pondered.
But I didn’t expect you to be so special, so... aware.
No Wait... this boy is...
"What about me?" he asked, his confusion audible.
I remained silent, my thoughts racing as I considered the anomaly before me, the one who shouldn’t have been able to hear me.
"Hey, I can hear you," he said again, a hint of annoyance in his voice.
Alright, kiddo. I’ve decided you’ll be the protagonist of my story, I said, the words a firm decision.
He definitely deserved the spotlight and all the plot armor that came with it.
"Really?! Then can I become as strong as Sun Wukong from Dragon Cup?" he cheered, his face lighting up.
Wait... Dragon Cup? Is that supposed to be a knock-off of Dragon Ball?
.....
Present time
The sudden stop of the car jolted me from my reverie, the memory dissolving like a dream.