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Chuck Shurley felt like he was very ordinary in every way; he had always been. He was the only child of a single mother who worked a lot. He went to school, got average grades, made a few friends and never stood out from the crowd. He loved writing ever since he was a small kid, but he never expected to succeed in it so much that he'd get recognized.

But as all good ideas tend to do, he was struck down by one when he was sixteen. Literally struck down, as he actually blacked out and when he woke up he had a terrible headache and his head was full of a story he needed to write.

In a way, he was glad for the migraine—it always seemed to give him some new idea about the story.

By some miracle he managed to get a post as a columnist in the local paper and he was pretty happy with his life. He didn't need to publish the books, which he at that point had many, but is colleagues were relentless after they heard about them. After a few months of pushing, he tried sending the script for the first book to a publisher and somehow ended up being the author of a new series, that became a huge hit in the town, but had only a few followers elsewhere.

So his life was good, he had a steady job, he was doing the thing he enjoyed and working the books under a penname secured his privacy, which he was quite fond of. Love was the only thing missing in his life, like it had been since the girlfriend he'd had in high school who'd ended up breaking his heart. And maybe he was a huge sap, but he thought that falling in love, really falling in love, should be big.

In the end, though, it took very little; a ring of his doorbell. He opened the door in his morning coat.

"Mr. Edlund?"

It was a petite blonde woman, with lost eyes and a dazzling smile that wasn't pretty like a film star's, but she really meant it.

"Hi, I'm Rebecca Rosen from the university's paper. I sent you a message?" Her voice was slightly breathless and she spoke really fast. When he nodded dumbly she flushed pink. "Gosh, I'm a fan of yours… I can't help feeling excited. There's so much I wanna ask you Mr. Edlund."

"Chuck," he choked out and the blushed a little himself. "Please, call me Chuck. Carver Edlund is just a pen name. My real name is Chuck Shurley… kinda lame, right?"

Her eyes widened and then she flashed him a smile that left his knees feeling weak.

"Chuck," she whispered like she was testing the name. "I'm Becky then."

He let out a shaky breath.

"Hi Becky."

She laughed and he smiled nervously and just like that they were in love.

Becky and he fit together like… like nothing he could describe. It was like magic, really. And at that point, meeting the woman of his dreams wasn't the only magical thing in his life. Because some months after he met some other people from his dreams who he rather wished he wouldn't have ever met. In all fairness though, he had warning.

It was hard to catch a prophet off guard.

-x-

While I still remember, a big thanks to all you people reading this story. My life's a bit stressful at the moment, so whenever I check my email and somebody has put this story on alert or in favorites or reviewed it really makes my day. Thank you, don't forget that you are great!