"It's finally done. I finished all of the background on the races, gods, and magic."
This was said by a very ragged looking man, who was rubbing his eyes from underneath his glasses. This person is our MC. Upon closer inspection, anyone could see that he hadn't slept in weeks, and hadn't been outside either. His pale complexion was screaming for sunlight, and his blonde hair was greasy and unkempt. A patchy beard could be seen on his face and he was hunched over a computer that was 10 years out of date. The apartment he lived in was covered in trash bags and empty energy drinks, with a smell of mold emanating from the walls. It was obvious that he was barely scraping by with his rent, so he didn't have money for a cleaning service.
This man was once the proud recipient of Best Seller with one of his published books. His others never quite reached that achievement but were still well liked. So, why was he living in squalor? It all started a year ago with a little joke character.
His newest book was pretty mediocre, but it sold well due to his name being on it. The novel was about a man fighting to protect his family business from a mega-corporation. This wasn't a completely unheard of plot but what made it a bit different was the president of said corporate entity. He was a bumbling buffoon, who was greasier than crude oil. Now at the time the author was just making up the villain's description, he didn't know there was a real person that he looked like. Unfortunately, that real person got his hands on this book and read the entire thing. As you can guess, he wasn't very pleased.
This man, who we'll nickname as Pres., was very wealthy and well-connected. Pres. made many calls to many critics, publishers, other authors, and our MC's bank. These critics ripped into not only the current novel, but changed previously positive reviews on his old books. MC's publisher dropped him and others refused to accept his works. The contacted authors posted hateful comments on social media, for anyone to read. All of this done over the course of a year, just for a little joke. Luckily, the bank didn't do anything, so he still had his savings. However, the damage was done, he couldn't afford to live in his house for long, so he sold it and bought a cheap apartment, to stretch his savings longer.
Our MC's previously tanned and well-toned physique was replaced with a pale, emaciated figure. He would fast for long periods, to save money. The bright and cheery smile that always adorned his masculine face was gone. His soulful emerald eyes had lost their light and sunken in. He slept almost never in an attempt to write more, just hoping to publish something, anything. This man had tried pseudonyms, having his friends/family try and do it for him, but nothing worked. Our MC gave up on trying to write serious novels, he was broken. That was when he stumbled onto light novels, and a new hope. He decided that even if he couldn't write professionally, he would write for fun. He got a job down at a local grocery just to earn a few bucks in the meantime. That brings us to now, where we see his efforts lead up to.
'I guess I should probably get some sleep, huh.' Checking his watch, he saw how late it was. As he stood up, his true height was seen. He was 6'6, he stood straight like an arrow, and as he stretched his bones cracked. Had he still been in his previous state he would easily turn heads. But now he cut a sorry figure as he meandered to his bed.
The monitor of the computer flashed a couple times as he walked away. He didn't see it happen but would have called it strange if he had. It was because he had turned everything off. Though it was old, it was very well maintained unlike his home. It was a gift from his sister, and even with their strained relations, he still loved her dearly.
At this time he didn't realize that today would be his last. The damage that stress and malnutrition had done to his body had taken its toll and an aneurysm had formed in his brain. As he laid his head down on the mattress, it burst, and, unaware, he slept. Upon entering a deep sleep, he took his final breath.