Page 97 of Fate Fiction

“What?” I asked.

“Dinner?” Caroline confirmed. “I think Andrea is almost done, and it’s gonna be a long wait to order from anywhere…”

Right right. The present. My two best friends in my apartment. Andrea reading my manuscript. Those three dots of text bubble were playing in my head.

Why did he even reach out? What was his endgame here? Was he trying to gather proof for a court case? Could you even sue someone for writing fanfiction?

“Dani?”

Food, right. Focus on the task at hand. “Maharaja Kitchen? I’m in the mood for Indian,” I sputtered out. Words. What were words?

“Okay,” Caroline gave me a sidelong glance. “Are you good?”

“Yeah, I got distracted,” I waved my phone around casually.

“Finished!” Andrea shouted from the kitchen.

Caroline and I whipped our heads over at her. My fingers twitched to open the message and see if Evan said anything or if I killed our conversation on arrival.

“And?” I asked apprehensively.

“I’m starving,” she replied. “What’s this about Indian food?”

“Babe I already got your order in,” Caroline called to her.

My entire apartment had descended into chaos, myself included. Caroline and Andrea were calling back and forth about getting a side of samosas to split. I had my last message to Evan burning a hole into my phone. I anxiously crossed over to the kitchen and drummed my fingers on the tabletop. “What did you think? Is it⁠—”

“It’s good,” Andrea said assuredly. “Really fucking good.”

“And your boss?”

“I want to tell you it’s a surefire thing, but she gets thousands of these a year. I might have some pull if you manage a really solid submission letter but⁠—”

“It really doesn’t suck?” I interjected.

“It’s amazing, honestly. I’m not saying this as your best friend, I’m saying this as a person who reads a lot of shit manuscript snippets. This would make anyone with a pulse stop and want to devour the whole thing. If my boss passes on it I don’t doubt that you’ll find someone else who wants to snatch it up.”

“Okay, okay,” I said, nodding distractedly. “So what the fuck do I do now?”

“Well I left you a few suggestions that might make certain scenes pop a little more. But now you prepare for a shit ton of rejection and hope that someone picks you.”

“Thrilling,” I said absentmindedly.

“Forty five minutes until food is here,” Caroline shouted from the couch.

“Dani,” Andrea said softly. “You have a real talent. What you wrote here is genuine gold, and it feels like you. Not someone else’s story repackaged into a new narrative.”

“Thank you,” I said quietly and sunk down into the chair. The easy part was done. I let my ideas possess me and I spat out a hundred thousand words that were somehow a coherent story. I could let it end here, but that wasn’t what I wanted.

It was a strange feeling to know exactly what my dreams were. I could visualize it all so clearly now, and I’d have to keep working my ass off to get there.

@eomc195

I didn’t react appropriately, and I’m genuinely so sorry for how I did.

I was…I don’t know, surprised?

All I could think of was that woman from years ago and the wires in my brain crossed and I couldn’t see you anymore, only her.