I AM THE AUTHOR

CHAPTER ONE

I held up my middle finger. 

Unironically, the entire conference room gaped at me. Well, suck it up, Buttercups! You all are the reason this is happening in the first place. Imagine. "Screw this. We've been going in circles for 2 hours. I told you, I write for fun, famous or broke. I never intended for this to happen anyway, so you can all leave. That adjourns this meeting. Go work for some other publisher, because I'm not a pushover." I scoffed, walking out of the room. 

"Seanae! Come back!" voices yelled from behind me. Ridiculous. They were all wolves, waiting for me to let down my guard. Jokes on them, though. Turns out college students have brains too. 

Uh-huh. You need context, right? I thought so too. I would be lost right now if I were you. Don't worry, I'll make it quick. 

I was just an ordinary college student who was studying while laboring for a biology degree. To make myself feel better about my bad life, I wrote a tragedy book called The "English Rose", where everyone suffers and then dies. And it worked. My problems seemed so small compared to the protagonists, who were constantly in agony, that I aced the midterms and got that degree. Woot Woot! 

Then I published my book and BAM. 500 million views overnight. Hallelujah, what the hell? Anyway, I even got a fan website called Zaldelia (a combination of the two protagonists' names - Cordelia and Zal.) Still, I don't need anything like a team of editors. Which is why I flicked off those dudes earlier. I stuck out a thumb as I left the building. "Taxi!" I screeched, and a bright yellow van stopped in front of me. 

"Where to, ma'am?" the driver asked and then fixed his hat. He had thought of something. "Wait! Are you the author of 'English Rose'?" 

"Nope. She's my twin sister. Now, 255 ETC drive." I said, rolling my eyes. This was a new problem for an introvert like me too. And also the fact that my biology degree was now useless since I was making hundreds of thousands off my book. Speaking of which, who in the world even reads that dogwater? the driver, apparently, does, as I found out. 

I stared out the window, my breath fogging up the window. I don't know. Sighing, I pulled out my phone to tap the Zaldelia app, and instantly I was greeted with a cosplay of the female protagonist, Cordelia. A red wig, cyan contacts, a priest robe, and lights framing her. Wow, pretty too. A cosplay is always based on how well a person can pull off the lines, and this one was fantastic. I smiled and then scrolled down. 

"Ma'am! The address was nearby, so we're here." the driver called, and I turned off my phone. Zaldelia could wait. "Thanks. Have a good day," I said, pulling out a 20-dollar bill and some change before getting out of the van. My house was a worn-out mess - literally crumbling. the paint had worn off a long time ago, and a surplus of weeds, as well as huge trees and a lot of other random plants. Weird for a millionaire, huh? well, I wasn't always rich. Also, I always wanted to live in one of those fairy-tale cottages - no neighbors, nothing around me except for green, and this garbage dump happened to be the closest thing to it. Even though I had money now, I just couldn't bring myself to bulldoze this place, so I was still living in it. Nice. As I opened the door, I instantly threw off my coat and collapsed onto the couch. Turning the TV on, I opened up Zaldelia on that too. Time for some binging. 

Fanart, Fanart, Ships, skits, my eyes slowly started to close. Mmmm, what a good day today was. Even though I did always act like a brazen alpaca, internally I was grateful for the life my fans had given me. And then I snored off.