Zillon scratched his chin and looked up when an idea hit him. He picked up a pen and started scribbling down on a piece of paper. He wrote a few things down and passed the card over to Davy. Davy frowned, the man his mad look on, he couldn't think anything good of the note.
He read the note, his eyes widen with surprise at how cunning the man's plan was. It was sure going to turn a lot of heads and break a lot of hearts. His lips curled up into a pleased smirk, he folded the note in his hand and sat up on the chair.
"The idea is perfect," he commented.
Zillon and Davy got up from their seats and headed over to the closet. The magical blue door was there, Davy set in the password and together they entered the room. "Revenge is a dish best served cold. Let's give Jason a gift that he won't ever forget," Zillon uttered.
The two young men looked at each other. Davy grabbed the pen and Zillon set the perfect song to go with the mood. He stood opposite to Davy and took out his own pen and together they started writing.
Jason sat in his room thinking of the places that he could tour with the prince had he been back in the novel. They could celebrate their engagement silently away from all the eyes that would distract them.
He looked at the painting that he received from the waiter. The boy was really strange. He had in possession that the fans of Alperx would kill for and he was just going to burn it. he truly wasn't a fan of the novel.
He got lost looking at the prince, for some reason he found familiar about the painting. The way that it was drawn, he could feel a connection to the painting. At first he had thought that the only reason he felt like that was because of the fact that Davion was in it.
But the more he looked at the painting, the more that his heart felt a drawing connection from it. It was a strange pull, like it was trying to tell him something. Thinking about the painting and who could have drawn it took his mind away from the crown prince.
Since he came out of the novel he had been thinking about the crown prince all through his days and nights. He stood from the bed and approached the painting, he brushed his hand on it. he drew a deep breath, he closed his eyes and ran his fingers along the lines the painting.
"Jasy, stop it or you'll ruin my painting," he heard in his head. He opened his eyes and gazed deeply at the painting. It was like fate, it had been four years and he had pushed the voice at the back of his head but suddenly he remembered it.
Remembered him.
"You must have painted this?" he thought out loud. The voice that had haunted him since his senior, after the car accident that he had. He had lost his memory and forget most of the things in his life. Of all the things that he was yet to remember was the voice of the boy.
From the bits that flashes in his mind, he knew that it was a boy, he painted and weirdly called him Jasy. It was hard to believe that after four years of struggling to recall who that was, he found a painting is connected to him. That or his mind was playing games with him.
He stepped back and looked at the painting keenly. It was strange that it took a boy whose voice is the only thing he recalls to capture the man he loved in perfection. It made him wonder what the painter's connection was to the writer of the book.
They had to be connected somehow, he was in search of the author of the novel but he was running into an old acquaintance that no one knew of.
After waking up in the hospital and hearing his voice, he tried to find him as the male seemed to be important to him. But everyone he knew claimed not to have known who called him Jasy. Nor did he find anyone in his life who could paint.
He brushed it off to the back of his mind as a side effect of the accident until today when he thought of him again. He traced his hand to the end of the painting and was surprised by what he found at the end of it. There was a signature at the end of the painting. It was too small for anyone to notice without taking a closer look.
He felt happy for following his instincts and coming closer to take a look. He narrowed his eyes and checked, it could help him track down the boy whose voice haunted him so much.
"By Alperx," he read. He was stunned, the author had hidden his name so well that unless you were standing an inch away from it, you couldn't see it even if you tried. Jason was shocked, the person that he was looking for so badly had made the painting.
He dropped to the round finding the news to be too overwhelming. He laid his head to the ground and closed his eyes, he needed to run everything in his mind and see what he missed.
He went back to the café where he first saw the fan art. The paintings weren't as different from the one that he had which meant the author must have painted them. Then there was the mysterious room that he had stumbled in, he could have sworn it was real even though the door wasn't there when he woke up.
Not to mention how Davy's boss just happens to have everything that the author makes from his hardcopy books to the paintings that he had discovered were made by the author.
"What do you mean a secret identity?"
A foggy memory flashed before his eyes. He could see himself seated in a room that looked like an art room. There was someone else in the room with him but he couldn't figure out who it was with how hazy it was.
"Im saying, what if I have to do something without letting people know that it is me. I will need a pen name right?" the boy asked.
He nodded, he couldn't refute when the male was making sense. "So what we're thinking, D?" he asked the young man.
"Alperx, its unique, cool and awesome," the young boy uttered.
Jason gasped as he got up from the ground. His heart was racing in his chest. For the first time since he got better from the accident he had seen a real memory involving the boy who voice he kept hearing.
He didn't get to see his face but he got to know something that he had never known. Until date he had thought that it was weird how the author compliments him like he was his soulmate but he just realized that he knew who the author is way before the person started writing.
"Davy was right, the author is a boy," he said in shock.
He wiped the sweat from his forehead, the news was too shocking for him to process. Him, an ordinary Jason Donoghan knew the famous author of standing by you among many more of his novels. They were close enough for the man to have told him the pen name he was going to use in the past.
"Who are you?" he asked himself. Discovering that he knew the author along made him feel stupid. He began to question himself and what relationship the two of them could have had. He looked at the beautiful painting, if the painting was there then it must mean that the author wasn't so far away.
He could start by asking Davy's friend from where they got the painting from. He shot his gaze to the bed and watched the teddy bear he had made for the author. He wondered why he had done that, with all this new pieces coming together in his mind. He could see that things weren't as simple as they appeared to be.
"How are we related?" he questioned the teddy bear. "What were you to me?"
He placed his hand in his heart and found that a new beat was ringing in his chest. Thinking of the author seemed to have an effect on him. It was as though, his heart was trying to tell him something that his mind couldn't understand. Maybe that was why he was addicted to his books in particular, he wasn't much of a reader until he accidentally found Alperx's first book.
It was like love then, and ever since then. He only reads the authors novels and no one else's. He was in love with the way he expressed everything in his novels and could connect to the feelings.. As though his heart knew from the beginning.