Ethan Gray was famous. He had made it, and in a way that felt entirely overwhelming.
To be clear, he wasn't famous in the way a movie star or a legendary director might be. The general public didn't care about the writer. They cared about the actors' faces, the director’s vision, the producer’s budget, and the singers' voices. They cared about celebrity cats, viral puppies, and trending piglets. In the grand ecosystem of entertainment, the screenwriter was usually the invisible ghost behind the curtain.
No, Ethan Gray was famous at the Little Red Pony Academy.
His reputation had arrived like a flash flood—sudden, unstoppable, and completely unprompted. Now, whenever he walked through the courtyard or entered the red-brick building, a chorus of high-pitched voices would greet him.
“Mist
