Once upon a time... (Weak Hero fanfiction)

The warrior squirrel

"... The young squirrel looked at his friends, trying to hide his anxiety behind his bright and obviously forced smile. Dan, Tim and Auncha couldn’t help but share Jakin concern."

Jake glared furiously at his unfinished story, feeling his usual lack of inspiration ambush his poor mind. Sighing loudly, he wondered if "Grey, the witch-hunter" used one of his magic trick to curse him.

(NDA : "Grey, the witch-hunter" is another story written by Jake aka "Kim Tea", inspired by Gray Yeon)

He started to frantically tap his finger on his head, gaining some annoyed glance from the people around him. Ignoring their hostile behavior, he decided to send an SMS to Dean, giving up on his draft story.

Jake : Hey dude, how you doin’ ? I’m at the Biller cafe and want some company.

Waiting for his friend answer, Jake looked at a waitress, winking seductively at her. The girl, noticing his lame attempt to gain her attention, send him a murderous glare that clearly said : "I have a boyfriend, you mother fucker."

Jake, being the gentleman he was, smiled apologetically at her. Not that he was afraid of her supposed "boyfriend", he could totally out-match him with his impressive fighting skills. He just didn’t wanted to bug the waitress any futher.

Dean : Hey man, I’m great. You’re drinking alone now ?

Jake : I needed a quiet place to think.

He wasn’t lying, but he could still taste the awfull flavor of his own betrayal ruining his amazing orange juice. It killed him to hide his fake identity to his friends, but he couldn’t help it. If they were to discover that he was a famous childbook author, they would probably make fun of him.

Dean : You, thinking ? Be careful not to hurt yourself...

Like i said...

Jake : Ah ah ah, very funny... And sooooo original. No one ever told me that.

Dean : Yeah, sorry man. I’ll be there in 5 minutes.

Smiling softly, Jake locked his phone, once again looking at his unfinished story. "The warrior squirrel" was the only tale inspired by his own life. And that’s probably why he’s got such an hard time writting it. It was emotionally exhausting to think about what his friends truly think of him.

Does they see him as an idiot ? Or a strong fighter ? Or a strong idiot ?

Or even worse... Does they see him as a mad man enjoying picking fights with strong and brave opponent ? A man who find the sound of blood splashing on the floor endearing ? A man that show no mercy, even when a crying fighter beg him to let him flee ?

He really hoped they only see him as a strong idiot, no matter how insulting that sounds...