Mysta Rias Angst [NIJISANJIEN]
In which every horrific case scars him,
The genius young detective Mysta Rias disappears from the world during a cold winter night.
His friends watch the orange sparks in his eyes reduce to nothing
// a series of angst...
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Ike Eveland ; Present time
Ike Eveland swore not to give up on his passion, not when he was almost there.
Ike's mind could run a marathon now that Mysta hadn't appeared for the past two weeks, as though the Earth did not hold him anymore. The novelist thought so much, yet could not process anything like the dainty little words he sprinkles in his writings. Nothing he could spew out, nothing he could comprehend, it was human emotion and the curious mystery of it.
With his sound and optimistic mind, he wasn't worried at all. (That was a lie.) He wasn't too worried that his friend was gone, for he would come back soon, it's what he promised.
With the way Mysta carried himself, he'd carry his promises an extra mile.
He sat down gripping his fountain pen as the tip was drowned by a layer of night, only for words of nothingness to be written on the paper; drips of ink began to pool down from his hesitance as the tip hovered over the empty paper. It scared him a little: to be gone from his muse, his friend group, for what felt like an eternity—the frights of drowning in burnout again.
Up, and up, his novels went, as if there was not a bad day in life when it was spent with their tight-knit group. Colorful words painted on the paper to showcase a fiction world of sunshine that was available in their world too; at least, for Ike. Now, it came crashing down like the pities of deforestation; it wasn't burnout again, was it?
His head was a murky ocean full of fish, yet no bites could be found at the end of his fishing pole. No emotions could be reeled in by the temptations of fresh bait. Instead, he was standing in the middle of his own headspace like a fisherman's rusted boat lost at sea.
How he wished his friends would've known how desperately he searched for a smile in his own face while looking back at his photo album for evidence that it once existed. Reading their old text messages, and revisiting memories was nothing less than an arrow to the heart. It made his aching heart flutter, only for its wings to be shot down by yet another arrow, giving a sense of false hope that fades like the memories of a breezy dream.
"I'm sorry Mysta," Ike frowned as he smeared the pools of dripped ink with his fingers into the shape of a smile. Salty tears of confusion and frustration ran down the screens of his glasses, finally mixing with the ink on the paper.
"I can't write like I used to anymore."
--
How will the world see the adventures we saw through our lives? I have to share it all.
the story of our lives
and the light I saw within it
--
flashback // first meet, first novel: high school ; 2nd year.
![[MYSTA ANGST] Letters from a Genius](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/348020556-64-k818677.jpg)