I had no Idea what to do.
My desk was a mess, my hair looked like I'd been caught up in a hailstorm and to top it all off, I hadn't slept in days.
I chuckled, my hands digging into my jet black hair, "What the hell am I doing with my life?"
I couldn't help but feel sorry for myself.
Barely 18 years old, single and living a lifestyle worse than those "Help a single struggling mother" ads, it looked like I had already hit my peak of youth. Though, that was the price to pay for choosing such a complicated life.
Not only was I a university student already, but I'd also chosen to live the most stressful life anyone could ask for by making my series a weekly thing. So not only was I afraid my hair would fall off before 20, I was sleep deprived, food deprived and idea starved.
"Come on, just think of something already! You're a genius. You've pulled through before, so why not now!?" I muttered to myself, squeezing my head as if I could somehow force the ideas onto paper.
In this day and age, mangakas were seen as supernatural virgins. People with no life, no need for sleep and the highest rank in any harem type multiplayer game.
To be fair, they weren't wrong.
But that's besides the point.
The point is I need an idea and I need it fast.
So, with the little money I had left, I did what any normal adult would do and I...went to the grocery store to go buy myself an energy drink.
And yet, even when I locked the door behinds me, wore my jacket and started walking down the apartment stairs...
There was this nagging feeling I couldn't shake off...