Sitting at a table on the balcony, by the ocean's gentle reflection of the setting sun, a man sighed. His discontent was visible from his disappointed face. Burrowing his face in his arms, he waited.
As the moon rose, he fixed his necktie coupled with a tuxedo, getting ready to leave but was stopped in his tracks by a woman with vibrant hair; it was his date. She was a one-of-a-kind beauty with a slender body and glistening skin.
A wide smile swept his face and they both ate. Not minding her delayed arrival, they talked, they laughed, and they cried. Both connected so well a red string visibly linked them together. Pulling them even closer.
Eating pasta, they both slurped a strand; the same strand as their mouth slowly came into contact.
As their lips touched, they stared each other in the eyes as it turned into one of passion. Their kiss intensified and the man barged his tongue into the woman's mouth and-
"Get your ass up, Mr.Fortune!"
Suddenly, a boy in his teenage years jerked up, out of his blanket with drool dripping down his cheeks.
The voice snapped him back to reality.
He found himself in an unfamiliar face, or so he thought but after he rubbed his eyes clean, he realized he was just inside his messy room. Strangely painted full grey.
It looked average, with the distinct brown table by the side of the bed and the bookshelf right next to it student kind of look, but a rather unusual furniture stood right by the door; a clear cabinet filled with all sorts of trinkets. Ranging from weird tools to ominous, Pikachu carvings, and miniature…tiki torches? An accumulation of bizarre items.
There were three cabinets.
Looking all around, he groaned in disappointment. A heart shattered above his head as he sighed dejectedly.
"This is the last time I'll call you! If you don't come down, I'll whoop your ass!" It added.
"Coming, Mom!" He replied bitterly as he stood up.
His clothes were as shaggy as his hair, but his pajamas matched his clean look.
'Just when it was getting good!' He thought, patting his clothes straight.
Rubbing his cheek, he noticed the dry, sticky saliva by the side of his mouth.
He grabbed a tissue from the side of his bed and wiped his face. But It wasn't enough to clean his cheeks so he made his way towards the bathroom. Fixing his bed before leaving.
As he opened the door, he was greeted by two goblins, holding weapons of war.
Both stared him straight in the eye menacingly before speaking;
"Brother!" They called out with refreshing but ominous grins.
It was his siblings.
He flinched in surprise from the sudden visitors.
Memories suddenly flashed in his eyes and as if a survival instinct, quickly covered his vital points, but he wasn't fast enough.
Immediately, the goblins seized the initiative and attacked; they flashed him with a camera and sprayed him with pepper spray. A devious combo in pursuit of permanent eye damage.
"Damn it!" The boy cursed, rushing towards the bathroom beside his room. He struggled to open the door from the buttered knob, another inconvenient trap set, but eventually pried it open with his wrists and long sleeves.
He hurriedly opened the faucet but the water also sprayed at him; it was taped closed and the water blew everywhere.
Not being able to take it off, he just washed his face with the makeshift sprinkler of the mischievous creatures.
"Abel! Gabe!" He called out angrily to be reciprocated by naughty giggles,
"Get pranked!" They laughed with a shrill voice, like the goblins they were.
He tried chasing after but saw his drenched clothes through the mirror. Knowing his mom, she would yell at him for wetting the floor and make it an excuse for him to do every chore around the house because of it.
Shuddering at the thought, he took his clothes off and shouted;
"I'll take a bath first, Mom!"
To which she replied, "If only you woke up earlier, then the food wouldn't have to wait!"
She continued on but the boy didn't listen as music blasted inside the bathroom.
20 minutes later, he came rushing down the stairs; "Good morning!"
But by the time he arrived everyone was already done besides his sister. A long-haired beauty. Having an uncanny resemblance to each other as if a carbon copy.
"Do the dishes, Michael." His mom ordered, waiting by the side of the staircase.
He stared him in the eye and added, "You have to do your own share, aren't you ashamed of your sister? She keeps cleaning after you!"
Michael groaned hearing this and avoided eye contact. Looking away, he saw the calendar right by the vintage-style kitchen and gasped; February 29, 2022.
Remembering something, he exclaimed. "Oh, shit!"
"What was that, young man?" His mom roared hearing the slur. Her voice had a rough sound like slippers scraping flesh; a slipper she was now taking off.
She coughed soon after and staggered because of it as the boy made his escape.
He jumped down the remaining steps and wore his branded shoes. "I'll do the dishes later!" He said, dashing as soon as he finished tying the shoelaces.
His mom was about to give chase but was stopped. "Don't worry, Mom. I'll do it." Michael's sister said. Convincing her easily.
"What could I do without you? Especially with your strange brother…" The mom sighed as she sat down at the table.
"Don't say that, he's just…unique." The girl tried to defend his brother. But even her statement sounded as wearily as her mom's.
The mom sighed again, "Just like your dad."
—
Running through the urban neighborhood, Michael greeted countless residents as he made his way towards the city, a few blocks away.
The wind blew back his black hair as he basked in the early sunshine.
Whilst running, he grabbed his phone from his pocket and called a number named, "Eggnog".
After a few beeps, it picked up. "Michael? What's wrong?" Asked a person from the other side of the phone.
"It's today!" He exclaimed excitedly like a little kid.
"For what?"
"Have you forgo-"
"Ah! Slow down, babe!" The man behind the phone suddenly moaned.
Michael: "..."
Paying no heed to the sudden outburst, he asked. "What about the convention?"
"I'm really sorry, I won't be able to make- Nh!…It. How about we go next time on-"
Michael ended the call. He was pissed off but he'd rather push it aside—until they meet face to face so he could sucker punch his annoyingly good looks.
Though despite considering himself sub-par, Michael's looks were no doubt exceptional. Demonstrated by the smitten and lascivious stares at him from teenage girls all around. His wild and sweaty look contributed to it.
Taking a stop at a pole to catch his breath, he had finally entered the city. The transition between the neighborhood and the city looked sudden from its recent construction 20 years ago, but the abnormal change was a common sight.
Brushing back his hair and dusting his clothes, he continued running towards a building shown to be 1 kilometer away from his position by the GPS inside his phone.
The cityscapes stood high and countless small shops and cafes were seen. This megalopolis holds the Guinness world record of the number of schools in a city, so naturally, businesses catering to students flocked into the area.
He once stopped again in front of a mall and checked the time, where he was also checked out by others; 8:34.
'Looks like I'll make it in time.' Michael thought.
He was on his way towards a novel convention, which he gained an interest in recently. At first, he didn't like reading, but when he tried a novel out of curiosity and insistence from others, he was instantly hooked. So was his best friend who was currently 'busy' and couldn't go.
Finally, after 20 minutes, he had arrived. Despite the short distance, the complicated layout of the city, his bad sense of directions, and his low stamina made him take longer than it normally would a person.
In front of him was a 5 stories tall mall with a very modern look, bustling. He entered and read the directions to the venue.
After a few twists and turns, he reached the main hall where the event was taking place; a massive hall smack dab in the middle of the building.
Since it was his first time in a convention, he had no idea what to do so he wandered around. Eventually stumbling to one of the more popular booths.
A huge sign hung from the ceiling; "KFG" with 5 small stalls underneath it.
He had assumed it was the name of the author.
Not knowing any better, Michael went to the left with fewer people and grabbed a sample book;
"A Cultivator's Guide To Harvesting Souls"
Intrigued, Michael sat down on a bench and started reading; It was only the prologue and he was already hooked.
Shrieking, jerking, and clapping from excitement, he read the book eagerly and smiled. Like a little kid buying a toy after a Sunday mass.
Time passed by and he quickly read through the whole book containing 50 chapters. Some looked at him weirdly but didn't think too much of it. After all, they were in a novel convention. If he wanted to spend the entire day reading, who were they to tell? They're the same also.
Michael's arms fidgeted and he sweated in anticipation.
Leaving him wanting more, he quickly bought all 1000 chapters of the story, plus a few other books from the same author and left. The event had barely started but he'd rather read peacefully back at home. And besides, he barely had any social skills. Even now, he stood out like a sore thumb.
But little did he know much impact this would have later on.
Although ironically, this would be the last time he would touch a literary medium known as novels…