The bus rumbled along the highway, cutting through the Tennessee landscape. Outside, the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across rolling hills and dense forests. Green Valley High students, weary from their week-long camping trip at Fall Creek Falls, were a mix of exhaustion and restless energy. Some slouched in their seats, earbuds in, nodding to the beat of their music. Others chatted quietly, voices blending with the drone of the engine. A few boys near the front threw crumpled paper planes, their laughter punctuating the otherwise mellow atmosphere.

In the very back, Rick sat with his knees drawn up, his thin frame hunched over his phone. His thumbs darted across the screen, the dim light from the overhead florescent highlighting the determined set of his jaw. Shaggy brown hair fell into his eyes, which were locked in concentration. Rick wasn’t exactly handsome, but there was something about him—maybe it was the sharp angles of his face or the air of nonchalance he exuded—that caught people’s attention, if only for a second.

“Who you texting, bro? Your boyfriend?” Brad’s voice cut through the steady clacking of Rick’s phone. The guy sprawled against the opposite window, grinning like he’d just told the world’s funniest joke.

Rick didn’t look up. “I’m texting your mom."

Laughter erupted around them. Brad rolled his eyes.

Rick’s fingers maintained their frantic pace. He was closing in on the climax of his latest chapter—Chapter 203.

Nobody on the bus knew it, but Rick was a web serial author with a growing fanbase. His story, Celestial Night, had taken off right before the school camping trip. The story’s Followers skyrocketed from a measly two hundred to eight thousand overnight. The comment section exploded—praise, criticism, everything in between. Some of the comments made Rick want to cry with joy; others just made him want to cry. All of it drove him to write more.

Why did his series suddenly explode in popularity? He hadn't a clue. The last chapter he posted before Celestial Night began to chart was Chapter 198. The chapter was climactic, but nothing to write home about. Rick had formed the opinion early on that his story simply wasn't that good. He was approaching the two hundredth and hadn't made any buzz. This deep into the story, any aspirations of luxury cars or holidays in the Maldives had been cremated, buried, and sealed, never to be revisited.

Now, his brain's child was sitting firmly in the fifth position on Talemakurr’s Rising Champions List, and he was still a bit numb to it, like it wasn't happening to him but to somebody else.

When Rick started writing the story two years earlier, he didn't have a backlog of chapters built up. He simply began posting his work, one chapter at a time. Celestial Night was inspired by a dream he had while nursing a bad fever. In it, monsters descended upon Earth to punish mankind for its future sins, bringing humanity to the brink of extinction. The dream had been so vivid, so real, that he'd woken up from it drenched in sweat, heart pounding. Despite running a temperature, he had rolled out of bed and shuffled over to his computer, switching it on. He had to write the dream down, even if no one else cared.

Now, people cared. A lot.

The bus hit a bump, jolting him in his seat. He blinked, glancing out the window. The sky was a washed-out blue, yet the first stars were beginning to show. Rick imagined Aon, his protagonist, looking up at that same sky, preparing to face the unimaginable horrors from beyond.

He glanced around the bus. To his classmates, he was just a tall, lanky kid, a bit awkward, maybe, but okay to hang out with. He wasn’t a jock or nerd; too skinny to be the former, too sociable to be the latter. They probably couldn't picture him writing a story like Celestial Night. Even his best friend, who had missed the camping trip because of a nasty flu, didn’t know about the story—didn't know that Rick went by Furthersea online. It wasn’t that he was ashamed. His story was dark, strange, not the kind of thing his friends would get. They liked books with clear-cut good guys and bad guys, heroes who saved the day and got the girl. Rick’s hero...well, Aon had just cleaved Mars in two with his sword to send a message to the Martians. One-tenth of the red planet's population perished as a result, including many innocents. That pretty much said it all.

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

A notification popped up on the phone, breaking Rick's train of thought. Another comment on his last chapter—Chapter 202. He’d been ignoring them all afternoon, trying to stay focused on writing. Curiosity won out now. He opened Talemakurr, his heart skipping a beat as he scrolled through the comment section.

'It's 4 AM and I have work in three hours. Yet I'm still reading!!! WTF IS SLEEP?!

Rick chuckled softly, a small surge of pride warming his chest. He scrolled down to see more.

"Celestial Night turned me into a crack-sheep, and I'm fiending ba-baaaad.'

Another user reviewed: ‘Writing is amateurish. Guessing author’s a high schooler? On the flipside, the foreshadowing is good. Characters also feel three-dimensional and real. But again, the technical tidbits: many grammatical errors and misspelt words, and a few awkward turns of phrase that made me cringe. A lack of a proper edit is hurting this novel. Plz get an editor, Furthersea, otherwise I can't give a rating higher than 2.5/5'.

And then, as always, the haters:

‘Why is this blowing up? Story sucks, plot meanders, and MC is cowardly. Aon spent the first hundred chapters in his head, overanalyzing everything. The amount of exposition is staggering. Show, don't tell! How many times do I have to tell authors this? Also, if you’re going to make your MC think a lot, at least make him smart and logical. I don’t recommend.’

‘Got up to Chapter 18 and had to drop, sorry. Story falsely represented itself. Won't be reading anymore from this author.’

'Went in with high expectations. Left disappointed.'

'This is hot garbage."

‘Get educated on firearms if you’re going to put them in your story.'

‘Yeah, not my cup of tea.'

Rick shook his head, managing a smile. He tried to stay optimistic by imagining what it'd be like to make a living off of his writing. Some authors pulled in tens of thousands of dollars a month. If he could do the same, he'd quit his fast-food job and focus exclusively on writing and school. Maybe even buy a car after getting his driver’s license. That would be something.

The bus rounded a curve, and the lights of Nashville glowed faintly in the distance. Wanting to finish the chapter before they reached school, Rick resumed typing, his fingers moving in a blur. Zeal was about to make a decision that would change everything—a turning point that Rick had been building toward for months.

Fifteen minutes later, he typed the last line.

Finished.

A rush of relief washed over him. He quickly copied the chapter from his note-taking app, pasting it into the upload form on Talemakurr. He was cutting it close. His upload schedule was 7:30 PM Mondays and Wednesdays. The time was 7:29:50. His fingers trembled slightly as he hit the upload button and watched the screen flash, indicating that Chapter 203 was live. A surge of excitement and nervousness filled him.

Posted 7:30 PM—on the dot.

The bus turned onto the street leading toward school, familiar buildings coming into view. Rick looked out the window, his heart still racing. The city looked the same as it always did, but to Rick, everything felt different. Before, when he'd post a chapter, it was routine. Habit. He did it for his two hundred loyal Followers, most of whom never commented. There's was a silent encouragement, special in its own way. But since all the recent attention, posting a chapter felt magnificent. His work now entertained thousands of people. Celestial Night had become an integral part of their day, their week. It made them laugh, cry, hope, and dream, and of course scare. To be able to provide this sort of value, to make someone's day slightly more enjoyable with merely 1,564 words, it was no wonder Rick was smiling as the bus approached the front of the school. It was no wonder the negative reviews and comments rolled off him like water off a raincoat.

The bus pulled to a stop.

The students gathered their belongings from the overhead compartments, filling the air with the rustling of backpacks and chatter as they prepared to disembark. Outside, parents and guardians stood clustered near the curb, their faces bright with relief and impatience. Rick spotted his mom and little sister Lilly, waiting near a tree just off to the side of the school’s main entrance. His mom, tall and lean, had her arms crossed, a small smile playing on her lips. Lilly stood beside her, bouncing on her toes, her red hair catching the light, making her look like a small flame flickering beside the tree trunk.

it was time to go home.