They had fallen asleep on the call that night, the sound of her soft breathing melding with the gentle patter of rain.
But since then… nothing.
She hadn't reached out.
Not a single word.
Yet, she was updating her novel, and he couldn't stop reading. Obsessively.
She'd abandoned one of her recent stories—it wasn't the first time. He understood why. She had trouble focusing, jumping from one idea to the next like a hummingbird flitting between flowers.
Her ADHD was that bad.
That's why she created so many novels, starting new ones before finishing the old. Thirty-something stories now, and only ten had passed vetting. The rest? Waiting.
Waiting for her to remember them.
Like he was waiting for her.
Waiting for her to remember him.
And then it happened.
Her latest novel was recommended.
His heart swelled with pride as he saw the announcement. Her book had been contracted. He beamed, warmth blooming in his chest as if it were his own victory.
He rushed to leave a comment on her story.
"Congratulations, author."
Then, without a second thought, he sent her his first gift and used up all his power stones.
Now, all he could do was wait.
For her to notice.
To notice him again.
Please.
And then, like a miracle:
"Hey, reader… thank you for the gift."
His heart jolted. He didn't even know when he did it, but in his excitement, he had gifted her a magic castle.
His eyes widened in panic as he realized what he'd done. Hers must've widened too.
The book had just been contracted—how was he going to explain this sudden, extravagant gift?
He groaned, typing quickly. "Um… would you believe that was a mistake?"
She replied with a laughing emoji. "I figured."
He let out a relieved breath, but his fingers moved before his brain could catch up.
"I don't mind, though. I'd give you a million castles if I had to."
The moment he sent it, he froze.
That was bold.
What made him think she wouldn't draw a boundary right then and there?
Her next message stopped his heart.
"Would you like to meet?"
He stared at it, unblinking, his pulse hammering in his ears.
"Yes." He typed the word so fast it was a miracle he didn't misspell it.
But after he sent it, there was… nothing.
No reply.
Minutes ticked by, stretching into what felt like hours.
She was gone.
He groaned in frustration, dragging a hand down his face. For God's sake, did this girl enjoy playing games?
Had he replied too slowly? Did she think he'd find it awkward?
Ugh.
He buried his face in his hands, groaning again. He had to get her attention somehow.
His gaze fell on his coin balance.
He started sending gifts—first a bubble gun, then a capsule, then anything he could afford.
Click. Click. Click.
He didn't stop, hoping, praying she'd reply.
But when he was down to his last coin, there was still no response.
He fell back onto his bed, staring at the ceiling in agony. "Goddammit…"
This girl was driving him insane.
In a last-ditch effort, he grabbed his phone and dialed her number.
The ringing felt like an eternity.
"Come on…"
"Pick up."
"Please, just pick up."
But it went to voicemail.
The rejection hit him like a punch. He gripped his hair, frustration bubbling over as he groaned into his pillow.
For a moment, he lay there, staring blankly at the ceiling. Then, a chuckle escaped him.
Golden tickets.
Yeah, he still had those.
He sat up with a smirk. He wasn't giving up. Not until she noticed him. Not until she was his.
He'd find a way.
Even if it took every ticket, every coin, every heartbeat.
Because she was worth it.