"This fucking piece of shit!"
I hurl my phone onto the bed, my voice echoing off the walls of my cramped apartment. Why—why does the author have to kill Elise? Why does this damn excuse of a main character have to murder the one person who loved him the most?
I drag my hands down my face and let out a long, defeated sigh. The way the author wrote Elise's death—it wasn't just sad, it was cruelly beautiful. And for someone like me, cursed with an overactive imagination, it hit like a truck. A ton of them, actually.
My phone buzzes. The screen lights up again, covering the flood of furious comments from other readers—thousands of them, just as heartbroken, just as angry. I was looking forward to this chapter all week, and now? It feels like a slap in the face.
It's a message from my colleague—the same guy who invited me out for drinks earlier. I declined because, well, the new chapter drops tonight, and this was supposed to be my treat. Guess the joke's on me.
> [Hey man. I know you declined earlier, but come with us anyway.]
I can't help but chuckle. Persistent bastard. My fingers hover over the screen before I finally type back.
> [On my way. Same place?]
A second later, the reply comes.
> [Hell yeah.]
I rake my fingers through my messy hair, throw on a sweater, and step out into the night. I definitely need a drink after that.
The novel I've been reading is about a hero who defies all odds, a chosen one surrounded by loyal companions who believe in him no matter what. But despite all the love and sacrifices around him—especially from Elara, the ice mage prodigy of Silverveil Academy—he kills her in a fit of rage.
A tantrum. That's all it took.
---
"See you tomorrow, San," I wave at my coworkers, heading in the opposite direction after a few hours of drinking. My head feels heavy, the world swaying just slightly—but I'm fine. Probably.
The cold air sobers me a little. The city lights blur against the drizzle. I'm halfway through an alley shortcut when I hear quiet sobs.
A kid. Maybe six years old, crouched beside a trash bin.
I kneel down beside him. "Hey, what's wrong?"
His shoulders shake. He doesn't answer.
"Are you lost?" I try again. "Do you have your parents' number? I can help you call them."
He sniffles, voice trembling. "I… lost my dog."
A dog, huh? I straighten up and glance around. Then I spot it—small, shivering, stuck on the other side of the street, too scared to cross.
"Wait here."
I jog across, pick up the frightened dog, and turn back toward the boy. The instant the dog barks, the kid bolts toward us.
The light turns red.
"Hey, stop!" I shout, running forward. I grab the boy's shirt, tossing him the dog. He catches it—safe. But before I can move again—
BAM!
The world spins. Pain explodes through my body as I'm thrown like a rag doll across the pavement.
Blood fills my mouth. My vision blurs. I can barely make out the kid's scream over the chaos.
They say you have seven minutes before you die—seven minutes to think. I think about the light novel that once pulled me out of my depression. The characters I loved. The one I hated.
And then… I see him.
Cael Bravestone—the arrogant, emotionless main character. Standing right in front of me.
I manage a weak, bitter smile.
"Fuck you… Cael Bravestone."