Thomas was the self-crowned king of mediocrity, so at least he could say he was good at something. He made it through high school, barely, graduating with a 2.2 GPA. He then got into a shitty community college named after some rich prick who wanted a tax write-off. He proceeded to scrape through every class, being unmemorable at best and memorable at worst. Finally, after four years of working at his uncle's coffee shop as a barista, he graduated and landed a gig at a large publishing firm, MicMallan. With his creative writing degree, the most creative activity he does at work is figuring out how to dick off on company time. He was hired on as an editor and hoped to work his way up, but often, as life does, it ignored his hope.
The one thing Thomas had pride in was his creative writing skills. Every book he edited had endings he could see from the first blatantly obvious foreshadowing. He swore day in and day out that, given the opportunity, he would write a book better than them all. He had an online novel that he was always working on. It was a failure like everything else in his life. It would only ever get a handful of views, no matter what he pulled. He posted on Bumbler, Reddit, he even paid NovelWeb to promote his book. Nothing worked for him. Sometimes he felt as if he was written to be the loser through and through. He did have one loyal fan through it all; they went by the username NotTheNarrator. They would blow up his comment section on every chapter in joy. They would applaud every twist, encourage Thomas when he published slowly, and most importantly, he was the only one who ever read past chapter three.
Even with his most loyal fan in his corner, his life was at the bottom, and it felt like he was nailed there to stay. Until one fateful day. The day he finally finished his novel. After eight years of writing the novel through college and work, he finished with 2,436 total chapters. At the end of the final chapter, he gave the best conclusion he could think of. Admittedly, it wasn't the best of the chapters, but at a certain point, he just wanted it to be over. There were still many open plots he planted throughout, but he knew it was time to finally give up on his dream. Ten minutes after publishing the final chapter, he was browsing other stories searching for inspiration when he received a notification.
A New Comment Has Been Left on Your Story!
NotTheNarrator: I am truly disappointed in how you gave up on your story, Thomas. I want to talk a bit about this 'ending.' Call me: XXX-XXX-XXXX
It was painful to read for Thomas, but also largely confusing. His fan rarely left a negative comment on his story; the only other time was when he killed off Narrator's favorite character. He also never revealed his own name at any point throughout writing the story. Many thoughts ran through his mind. Is it a stalker? Is it his uncle trying to support him? But it wasn't his uncle's phone number. He read the comment over and over again. If he had anything to call an accomplishment, it would be this story, and his only fan was now upset with him. Slowly, the pain turned to anger. Who is his fan to tell him how to end his story? Finally, he typed in the number in his phone and pressed dial. He was going to give Narrator a piece of his mind.
He was, at least. But before he knew what happened, all of his senses seemed to disappear. He screamed in fear and ran away. At least, he would have if he could, but nothing seemed to change. It truly seemed that everything was gone. Then a voice broke the void, followed by a temporarily blinding radiance.
"Thomas Everdane," the voice boomed, incredibly dramatic and laced with importance. "You have been summoned to save my world from the end."
Before him stood a man made of white light, constantly shifting and slightly unhuman. Thoughts ran through Thomas' mind as he was confused and disoriented. One thought drowned out the rest: "How fucking cliché."