Jaune closes his laptop and sighs. The email telling him that if his next book wasn't a success, his contract wouldn't be renewed. Maybe he isn't cut out for writing anymore, his last great idea went down in flames after all. The only book that seemed to be covering his costs was fanservice trash he had written at the companies request. He honestly wanted to write a beautiful epic that spoke to the soul, not write pandering drivel. But he's on the verge of becoming a starving artist... His phone vibrates once in his pocket, a text. He takes it out of his pocket and looks at the screen.
[Hey Jaune can you do me a solid?] The text read, the sender none other than his editor.
[Sure, what do you need?] He replies back, it wasn't often he asked for favors. Though Jaune could use a favor down the line...
[I'm feeling under the weather, so I told one of my authors that I'd send someone with writing skills better than mine, meaning you. Her name is Blake Belladonna. Here's her address.] His editor texts the address in the next text block.
[You owe me for this Blain.] Jaune shoves his phone back into his pocket. He picks his laptop up, pays for his tea and walks out the coffee shop. He grabs his car from the parking lot, pays the toll booth and head towards Ms Belladonna's residence. He links the bluetooth on his phone to his car and plays a music streaming program on his phone. The traffic's non existent, so the journey to the woman's home is a short one. He pulls up into the parking lot complex, parks his car, and walks up to the elevator to head down. Once on ground floor, he walks out the parking lot and walks toward the apartment complex across the street.
He climbs the stair to the second floor, turns the corner and knocks the apartment door. It slowly opens to reveal a young woman with bloodshot eyes with bags under them.
"Blake Belladonna?" He calls out to confirm.
"Yes, who're you?" She coughs a couple times.
"Jaune Arc, Blain sent me to help you tidy up your manuscript." He frowns. She closes the door and takes off the protector chain. She reopens the door to let him in. The moment he steps foot inside, his nose is assaulted with the smell of wet cat and cheap beer. Sure enough, empty beer cans are strewn across the floor and two cats lounge around the room. He takes off his satchel and sets it off in a relatively clean corner of the room. Grabbing his laptop, he sits in front of what seemed to be her writing area.
"Want some Earl Grey?" Blake pops her head out of the small kitchen.
"Do you have Black Tea?" Jaune calls back.
"No, I ran out yesterday. I do have Green Tea though if you want some of that." Blake turns on the faucet to wash out some dishes.
"Earl Grey is fine." Jaune smiles weakly. Blake turns on the gas stove and puts a teapot on it.
"It'll be ready in five minutes. In the meantime let's look over my draft." Blake exits the kitchen and walks toward Jaune and hands him a stack of papers. The title is, The Faunus and the Sword. It's authored by Black Cat. So this was the author everyone wouldn't shut up about. As he read through the story he finally understood why his stories didn't have the impact he wanted. Sighing, he sets the papers aside once he reaches the end of chapter two. "No good?" The bow wearing woman looks expectedly at him.
"No it's fine, if anything I'm a bit jealous of your narrative skill." Jaune bites into his lower lip. He still had a long way to go it seemed... Blake smiles at his praise but her cat ears perk up at the sound of boiling water. She hurries to the kitchen to poor the boiling water into the tea leaves.
"If you want, I can look at your stuff. It's only fair." The girl tells him as she brings the tea, wisps of steam rising. Jaune looks out the window towards the sky. If only he could fly... Sighing, he gets up to grab his own manuscript from his satchel. He just hopes she doesn't judge him for writing trite pandering garbage. It's a miracle anyone reads Ninjas of Love, or a curse upon humanity as Jaune likes to call his own creation.
"Before I hand you this, I know it's garbage. It's the only series of mine that's still selling, sadly..." Jaune bites into the back of his thumb to calm his nerves; he doesn't want this storytelling god to hate him because of his worst works. He sits back at his original spot. She reads for a few minutes before she flips back to the title of the manuscript, Jaune's dignity gets stuck in his throat. Her head snaps up and she looks him straight in the eye.
"You wrote Ninjas of Love?" She asks.
"Sadly yes." Jaune avoids eye contact and wrings his hand. She shoots up and runs into the other room and comes back with three books in tow. The books are dumped in front of him.
"Sign. Please." She looks into his eyes without blinking.
"Wait what?" Did he hear her right? She wants an autograph on the worst book series he ever wrote? Jaune frowns as a headache begins to form at the tip of his brain.
"Couple years ago I was in a writing slump and these books inspired me to keep going. I love the raw passion, the energy, the wildness of it all. It's probably my favorite series period." Blake fondly strokes the spine of the first Ninjas of Love book, a soft smile on her lips as she looks down on the floor. Jaune blinks and then blinks again and again. No matter how many time he blinks, he still doesn't believe how things turned out. His mind full of questions like: why that book, how, what, why, and various other questions. He just can't comprehend how this is how his day would turn out. Breathing in slowly, he takes a red pen and signs the damn books, his headache a throbbing migraine now. "Thank you Jaune." Blake gives him a quick hug.
"Today is topsy turvy day... This has to be a dream..." Jaune mumbles to himself. Shaking his head, he turns to Blake. "You're welcome. Now, let's write some stories."
Author's Note: This idea was floating around in my head so I decided to write this short oneshot. The Chessmaster's Choice is on hold because I have writer's block on it. Anyhow I hope you guys enjoyed the story. Don't forget to review.