Yrythaela

This young man in his early life as a teenager is considered to be a talent born once every century. A modern Shakespeare. Highly regarded by thousands of people all around the globe with his tear-jerking creations of love story that will make men and women cry. 

In short, a genius.

But everyone knew of his true nature. Despite being awarded countless awards as one of the best romance author in the whole world, he's... clueless. Everything about love.

His cold demeanor and a stone cold face shows no signs of attractions or feelings to anyone. He doesn't feel any attraction to anyone. 

Now, he enters the first years of his high school life. Several interesting characters entered his life in which fate clearly planned to.

Will he be able to feel the feelings of the character he writes in his novels or will he just be the same old, cold and heartless, 'Void Writer'?

AUTHOR'S NOTE: As much as I'd like to reference real books in the real world in this story, I'm afraid that I cannot since there's copyrights and licensing protecting those things. And I'm not going to risk it. So that's why most of the books in this story will be made up by me.

The Void Writer

"Thanks for the food Isabelle. You always made the best dishes." Randy then drank the fully filled cup of water that he was given. He then opened up his phone and the words [On the way] was written on it.

"As much as I'd like to get happy about that, you're just eating dirt out there in the field anyway, so I doubt that you're getting any meal that's sufficient or tasty at all." Isabelle replied.

"Well... I can't argue with that."

The gate's doorbell rang and it sent a loud noise inside of the house.

"I'll get that." Isabelle then took off the apron that was around her and went outside. As she opened the door, her eyes couldn't believe what she was seeing. "What are you doing here..?"

"I was called, by your father, Randy." Verza replied.

Isabelle then calmed herself down and opened the door for him, "Come in." Letting him in walk first.

Page LXXXIX - Time of Peace