it's a metaphor for consumerism, i think

DAY 1

Stage Left, Mark Immortell
Stage Right.. ME!!!

"So this is it, then?" He keeps distance from me, warily. "This is what you've been creating behind the scenes? Is this your magnum opus?"

"Far from it, are you kidding me?" I cross my arms but don't approach him, leering at him above my rounded glasses. "My guy, this is a nonsense fic in a dead fandom, why would this be my best work?"

"I presumed, since this is your first work of few that you.. Have completed." he looks a bit smug at that.

"As far as you know." I repelled just as much mockery in my tone as he had. "So long as I stay writing, you might be just as uncompleted as the rest of them."

He laughed "So what's the point of this? You write the.. Senseless ramblings of a madman down and then what? An overarching plot? A deeper meaning?"

"Whatever I feel like, I haven't written most of this after all. Just the beginning, and the end."

"The end? How daring, and what comes in between?"

"Senseless bullshit, I'm sure."

"Wonderful." Mark seems pleased "That's what we want, right? To not take yourself too seriously?"

"Something like that." I shrug under the heavy cloak that was suddenly donned on me, time before the start is running short "Don't take anything I say too seriously. Or think too hard about it.. Maybe later on do, I have some important things to say after all."

"Do you? Do you really?" He teased.

"Mark, you're in my story now. I could make you get the plague if I wanted to." I threatened, but it seemed to fall on deaf ears. It seemed I couldn't just bend and break characters to fit my will just like that. Well, not without some caveats.

"Well what are you going to do now? Any plot to follow? What story will you tell?"

"There's only two things you get to know now." I gazed at him tautly as the darkness pilled in around us. "There are two sides of me, one, a college student desperate to get an outlet now that the days of being an author are getting behind them, and the other.."

"Absolute complete and utter nonsense." he finished for me.

The wind of the steppe feels eerily still when I awaken.

It's strange really, as if the path had been carved into it for me. For my gentle steps to grace the earth of the polluted land, welcoming me with a soft grace that wasn't meant for anyone else. I was, of course, from here. The Town, I mean, which beckons me as if it's calling me home. It doesn't really seem to have a name but really neither do I.

I walk the streets with familiarity that doesn't really belong to me, drawing along houses and shops like I'm the one who shaped them. But this aloofness is what sets it all off- I bump into someone.

"OHFUCKNYIDFVNJIDSUIDV SU" daniil dankovsky (i dont know this actually but you know this so that swhy i wrote it) screams as he drops all of his items on the floor everywhere oh my god

"Ohgkjngf biudnjkfnsdxui ghiufsfsin what hello" i yell back shockted and also surprised "man do you need help what"

I reach down to grab one of the dirty syringes he dropped and he also reaches down and our fingers touch. I blush frromt he contact but he quickly retracts his hand and continues 2 yell at me

"WHAT THE FUCK EW GTET AWAY FROM ME/???"

I get away from him hands in the air "hi what im sorry who are you man i what hey"

He glares at me " u need not know who i am you mindless filthy cretin . it is of no concern to you i have more important places to be BYE ." he walks away to more important places