Alright—Ladies and Gentlemen,
Readers and Roasters,
Supporters, Haters, and that one guy still stuck in Chapter 37—
This moment marks a historic point in our journey. Not just another chapter...
but the 100th one.
That's right—ONE. HUNDRED. FREAKING. CHAPTERS.
A journey that started with a single awkward line has now exploded into a chaotic saga of heartbreak, betrayal, midnight snacks, blazer fashion, and... whatever July Boy is doing.
We've laughed.
We've cried.
We've emotionally crumbled and then laughed again three seconds later because someone said something dumb.
This isn't just a number—it's a milestone. A celebration.
A slap in the face to logic and a love letter to chaos.
---
And to honor this glorious occasion...
We're doing something never done before.
We are stepping out of canon.
Just for this one chapter:
📜 Timeline? Don't ask me.
🧠 Logic? Never met her.
🎬 Plot? Mysteriously disappeared.
🔄 Continuity? Not returning our calls.
---
Oh—and one more thing.
Starting now, the chapters will be longer.
You know what that means?
More drama. More laughter. More pain.
And definitely more scenes where someone cries and pretends they didn't.
Alright floks let's dive into this special chapters where as usual we'll open with Sam.
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As sam was walking down the road, kicking a lonely pebble like it owed him money, deep in thought.
He thought to himself how great it'll be if a massive dragon suddenly attacked the city, and how—obviously—he would fight the dragon to save the day.
Wearing a red ranger suit, cape fluttering in slow-mo, he'd rescue a random girl, who'd look at him with starry eyes and whisper,
"Oh my hero…"
He smirked to himself as he imagine all this.
But suddenly—
A girl screamed.
A real one. From not-so-far away.
Sam froze. He realise.
"...It's hero time."
He bolted toward the sound, already prepping his pose.
He imagined himsef how he'd drop-kick the dragon first, then again when it tries to breathe fire at him, he'd whip off his belt, tie the dragon's mouth shut, and BOOM—internal combustion victory.
He'd walk away from the explosion in slow motion. Cue applause. Cue theme song.
"This is it. My moment. My legacy. My debut as Dragon Slayer Sam."
He reached the scene, heart pounding.
He was ready. He was brave. He was—
Disappointed.
Because standing there, screaming like a soap opera star, was none other than Jangla.
And the "dragon" she was battling?
A caterpillar.
Tiny. Fuzzy. Crawling up her skirt like it paid rent.
Sam stood there blinking in pure betrayal.
All those epic thoughts… for this?
"GET IT OFF ME!!" Jangla screamed, looking at him like he was a Pokémon she just summoned.
Sam clearly disappointed casually slapped the caterpillar away.
Unfortunately, his aim was trash.
And instead of just brushing off the bug…
he accidentally flipped up her skirt.
Jangla screamed
"YOU PERVERT!!!"
Sam's soul momentarily left his body.
But fate wasn't done yet.
A nearby policeman, who had heard the scream, turned just in time to witness The Great Skirt Flip of Chapter 100.
Sam made eye contact with him.
Then looked at Jangla.
Then back at the officer.
And in that moment, Sam realized—
He was going to jail on his 100th chapter debut.
Without a second thought nor a second to waste he quickly bolted away from there, he didn't knew where he was running towards but he just ran and eventually shoke off the policeman. Barely escaping jail in the special chapter.
Sam ran until his lungs screamed and his knees filed for retirement. After a full-on sprint that could've earned him at least one Olympic participation certificate, he finally ducked into an alley.
He leaned against a wall, gasping. "Haah... I think I lost him…"
𝗡𝗢, 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗗𝗜𝗗𝗡'𝗧.
Sam blinked. "Wait, what?"
𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗗𝗜𝗗𝗡'𝗧 𝗟𝗢𝗦𝗘 𝗛𝗜𝗠. 𝗖𝗛𝗘𝗖𝗞 𝗧𝗢 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗟𝗘𝗙𝗧.
Sam froze, turned around—nothing. Just an old cat staring at him like it knew taxes.
𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗢𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗥 𝗦𝗜𝗗𝗘.
𝗧𝗛𝗔𝗧'𝗦 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗥𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧 𝗦𝗜𝗗𝗘 𝗦𝗧𝗨𝗣𝗜𝗗.
"What other—" Sam spun again, confused. "Wait—who on earth is talking?"
𝗠𝗘. 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗪𝗥𝗜𝗧𝗘𝗥.
Sam looked up at the sky like it owed him answers. "Okay… either I'm hallucinating or the universe is on cheap Wi-Fi again."
𝗡𝗼, 𝗡𝗼. 𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗦 𝗜𝗦 𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗟. 𝗜 𝗠𝗘𝗔𝗡 𝗡𝗢𝗧 𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗨𝗔𝗟𝗟𝗬— 𝗬𝗢𝗨'𝗥𝗘 𝗜𝗡 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝟭𝟬𝟬. 𝗧𝗛𝗘 '𝗦𝗣𝗘𝗖𝗜𝗔𝗟.' 𝗜 𝗚𝗘𝗧 𝗧𝗢 𝗕𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗞 𝗥𝗨𝗟𝗘𝗦 𝗧𝗢𝗗𝗔𝗬.
"Oh, so you're the guy who made me step on poop?"
𝗔𝗺 𝗜?
Sam's eye twitched. "You think this is funny?"
𝗬𝗲𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗱 𝗶𝘁.
"Well, I didn't!"
𝗧𝗵𝗮𝘁'𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗵𝗼𝗹𝗲 𝗽𝗼𝗶𝗻𝘁.
"Alright, listen here, you omnipresent punk—"
𝗘𝘅𝗰𝗲𝗽𝘁 𝗜'𝗺 𝗻𝗼𝘁. 𝗜'𝗺 𝗼𝗻𝗹𝘆 𝗼𝗻 𝗺𝘆 𝗿𝗼𝗼𝗺 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗻𝗼𝘄.
"Whatever! You think you can just narrate my life like some kind of—"
—𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗱 𝗼𝗳 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘆?
"...Don't you dare finish my sentences."
𝗗𝗼𝗻'𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗱𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗶𝘀𝗵 𝗺𝘆 𝘀𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲.
Sam screamed in frustration. "Stop copying me!"
𝗦𝘁𝗼𝗽 𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗺𝗲.
"STOP IT!!"
𝗦𝘁𝗼𝗽 𝗶𝘁!!
They both paused. The air went silent. Even the cat facepalmed.
"Okay," Sam said, taking a deep breath. "You're not real. You're just words. I control my fate."
𝗡𝗼, 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗱𝗼𝗻'𝘁.
"Yes, I do!"
𝗧𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗶𝘁. 𝗧𝗿𝘆 𝘄𝗮𝗹𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗹𝗲𝗳𝘁.
Sure thing, Sam glared defiantly and stepped left.
𝗔𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘀𝗮𝗺 𝘄𝗮𝗹𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁.
"WHAT—No I didn't!"
𝗬𝗲𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗱𝗶𝗱. 𝗔𝗻𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗽
𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗮—
"Don't say it!" Don't do it. Don't do it.
—𝗯𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗻𝗮 𝗽𝗲𝗲𝗹.
Sam slipped instantly, crashing into a trash can.
"ARGHHH! This is harassment!"
𝗜𝘁'𝘀 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗱𝘆
"Comedy my—!"
𝗟𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗮𝗴𝗲. 𝗪𝗲 𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗮 𝗣𝗚-𝟭𝟯 𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴.
Sam peeled the banana off his head like he was removing the crown of humiliation.
"Fantastic. I just got assaulted by potassium."
𝗢𝗵 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗼𝗻, 𝗶𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗳𝘂𝗻𝗻𝘆.
"Funny? You made me slip in garbage!"
𝗜𝘁'𝘀 𝗰𝗮𝗹𝗹𝗲𝗱 𝘀𝗹𝗮𝗽𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗰. 𝗧𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗶𝘁 𝗮𝘀 𝗮 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗱𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗹𝗼𝗽𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁.
"I'm developing tetanus, that's what I'm developing!"
𝗔𝗻𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗱𝘆 𝗶𝗻𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗰𝘁𝘀.
"Oh sure, next you'll say getting chased by a cop was a bonding exercise."
𝗔𝗰𝘁𝘂𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝘆𝗲𝘀—𝗯𝗲𝘁𝘄𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗽𝗮𝗻𝗶𝗰.
Sam squinted at the sky. "You've got jokes, huh, voice-in-the-clouds? Who even are you?"
𝗬𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗿. 𝗬𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿. 𝗬𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗱𝗮𝗱, 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗶𝗻 𝗮 𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗹𝘆 𝘄𝗮𝘆.
"…Wait, so you're saying I'm your son?"
𝗬𝗲𝗮𝗵, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝗴𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗲𝗻𝘁, 𝗜 𝗰𝗮𝗻 𝗴𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗯𝘆 𝗱𝗲𝗹𝗲𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘀𝗰𝗲𝗻𝗲.
"You wouldn't dare."
Backspace noises.
"WAIT WAIT WAIT—okay okay sorry, Dad—Writer—𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿—whatever!"
𝗧𝗵𝗮𝘁'𝘀 𝗺𝘆 𝗯𝗼𝘆.
Sam crossed his arms. "So what now, huh? You just keep making me suffer for content? What are you, emotionally unstable or something?"
𝗢𝗵 𝘆𝗲𝗮𝗵. 𝗕𝗶𝗴 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲.
Sam blinked. "…You just admitted that?"
𝗪𝗵𝗮𝘁, 𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗸 𝗜 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗰𝗲𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘁𝗼 𝗳𝗹𝗶𝗽 𝗝𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗹𝗮'𝘀 𝘀𝗸𝗶𝗿𝘁 𝗯𝗲𝗰𝗮𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝗜'𝗺 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗯𝗹𝗲?
"That explains so much about my life…"
Wait a second, why am I talking to you or more like why are you talking to me?
Did you ran out of ideas or?
𝗥𝗮𝗻 𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗮𝘀? 𝗪𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗱𝗶𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗹𝗮𝘀𝘁 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗱 𝗮 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗮𝗹𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗼 𝗶𝘁'𝘀 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿? 𝗧𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝘀 𝗮𝗻 𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗮 𝗶𝗻 𝗶𝘁𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗳.
Yeah, I'm not so sure about it. I just feel like it's really embarrassing that you're talking to your own character.
𝗡𝗼𝘁 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗲𝗺𝗯𝗮𝗿𝗿𝗮𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗳𝗮𝗹𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗔𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗹 𝗻𝗮𝗿𝗼 𝗶𝗻 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝟮.
Yeah about that let's not go back there, it was really embarrassing that I even falled for that trick.
𝗜𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗮𝗿𝗶𝗼𝘂𝘀.
So who even are you, I mean your name great author or writer.
𝗜 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗹𝗹 𝗻𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗮𝘀𝗸. 𝗪𝗲𝗹𝗹 𝗵𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗼 𝗺𝘆 𝗴𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁 𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗺𝘆 𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝗦𝗮𝗺. 𝗬𝘂𝗽 𝗜'𝗺 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗶𝗻 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗺𝘆𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗳 𝗶𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂.
Creepy!
𝗛𝘂𝗵! 𝗖𝗿𝗲𝗲𝗽𝘆!
Think over it. If you're me and you're writing yourself. Then right now you're arguing with yourself.
𝗧𝗲𝗰𝗵𝗻𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝘆𝗲𝘀. 𝗜 𝗮𝗺, 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗿𝗲 𝗺𝗲.
𝗕𝘂𝘁 𝗶𝗺 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂.
What does that even mean?
It doesn't make any sense. You're me but I'm not you?
𝗬𝗲𝗮𝗵. 𝗬𝗼𝘂'𝗿𝗲 𝗯𝗿𝗮𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗺𝗲. 𝗦𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿 𝗺𝗲. 𝗛𝗮𝗻𝗱𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗿 𝗺𝗲. 𝗪𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗜'𝗺 𝗰𝗼𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗱, 𝘄𝗲𝗮𝗸 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘂𝗴𝗹𝘆 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝗿𝗲.
"Ah—so I'm you with better lighting."
𝗣𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗶𝘀𝗲𝗹𝘆.
Sam grinned. "So basically, I'm your alter ego with plot armor?" Alright! And if I am you and you're not me and you're coward, weak and ugly—!
𝗗𝗶𝗱 𝗺𝘆 𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗶𝗻𝘀𝘂𝗹𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗺𝗲?
You said I'm you so I insulted myself— never mind don't cut me in between. As I was saying if you're ugly, coward and weak and I'm you then doesn't that mean I'm ugly coward and weak too?
𝗔𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝘀𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗿 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴?
No, like you said I'm you and your me and ah— never mind I know I'm dumb and if I'm you then you must be dumb too.
𝗜'𝗹𝗹 𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘀𝘂𝗳𝗳𝗲𝗿 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗰𝗮𝗹𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗺𝗲 𝗱𝘂𝗺𝗯 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻 𝗶𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗿𝗲 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁.
Oh come on — I need plot armor I'm the main character.
𝗣𝗹𝗼𝘁 𝗮𝗿𝗺𝗼𝗿? 𝗣𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲. 𝗜𝗹𝗹 𝗴𝗼 𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝗺𝘆 𝘄𝗮𝘆 𝘁𝗼 𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝘀𝘂𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝗶𝗻𝗷𝘂𝗿𝗲𝗱 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗱𝘆.
"That's not fair!"
𝗡𝗲𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗶𝘀 𝗹𝗶𝗳𝗲. 𝗕𝘂𝘁 𝗮𝘁 𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝗳𝗮𝗻 𝗮𝗿𝘁.
Sam glared. "You think I enjoy being your emotional punching bag?"
𝗬𝗲𝘀. 𝗔𝗹𝘀𝗼, 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗶𝘁 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘀𝘂𝗳𝗳𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝗹𝘆 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗸 𝗰𝗼𝗼𝗹. 𝗬𝗼𝘂'𝗿𝗲 𝗮 𝗳𝗶𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝗶𝗻𝗳𝗹𝘂𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲𝗿.
"Oh great, I'm a content farm in a blazer." Can't wait for the comments to read, sam fell down over a banana peel again funny.
Real flattering.
𝗙𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗼𝗿𝗱, 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗽𝘂𝗹𝗹 𝗶𝘁 𝗼𝗳𝗳 𝗯𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝗻 𝗜 𝗱𝗼.
Oh yeah? Then tell me who is my love interest?
𝗢𝗵 𝘀𝗼 𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗯𝗼𝘆.
Can you blame me for being impatient, we're almost 100 chapters in and I still don't know who my love interest is.
𝗢𝗵 𝘁𝗿𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗺𝗲 𝘀𝗮𝗺, 𝗜 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝗻𝗮 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝘁𝗼.
So you telling me you don't know who my love interst will be?
𝗕𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗼...!
Don't act like it's a great thing. How can you write a novel without knowing who will be the main interest?
𝗜𝗻𝗰𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗱𝗶𝗱𝗻'𝘁 𝗸𝗻𝗲𝘄. 𝗜'𝗺 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘆 𝗯𝗮𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝗼𝗻 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹 𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗲𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹 𝗾𝘂𝗶𝗰𝗸 𝗶𝗻 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹 𝗹𝗶𝗳𝗲.
So you telling me you're single, nerd and have no presence in real life and have no idea who to make the love interest both in real life and story?
𝗞𝗲𝗲𝗽 𝘁𝗮𝗹𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗜'𝗹𝗹 𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗱𝗶𝗲 𝗯𝘆 𝗮 𝗿𝘂𝗯𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗸𝗲𝗻 𝗯𝗲𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝗹𝗶𝗺𝗮𝘅 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘆.
Then who will end the story.
𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗿𝘂𝗯𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗸𝗲𝗻...!
Sam sighed, the faintest grin creeping in. "You're insane, you know that?"
𝗢𝗵, 𝗯𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗲𝘃𝗲 𝗺𝗲—𝗶𝗳 𝗜 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘀𝗮𝗻𝗲, 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗱 𝗯𝗲 𝗮𝗰𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗹𝗲𝗱𝗴𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗻𝗼𝘄.
"…Touche."
𝗡𝗮𝗵, 𝗦𝗮𝗺. 𝗜𝘁'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗺𝗲 𝗮𝗴𝗮𝗶𝗻𝘀𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂. 𝗜𝘁'𝘀 𝗺𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂—𝗿𝗶𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗮𝗺𝗲 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘆.
"Right…" Sam smirked. "So if I'm you, and you're me—who's writing who?"
𝗬𝗲𝘀.
Sam blinked. "…That didn't answer anything."
𝗘𝘅𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗹𝘆. 𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝟭𝟬𝟬 𝗯𝗮𝗯𝘆.