He stared at his computer screen, a blank text document the only thing open. He had his head propped on his hands and his brows furrowed in concentration. His head throbbed with pain and his eyes burned; they were the lingering sensations of an unending hangover.
It hadn't been like this at the beginning. When his career had started at the young age of 19 he'd been a brilliant writer with what felt like an endless imagination, but before he know it 6 years had passed and he had burnt out completely.
Now he was 26 and the last year had felt like a waste of his life, spent mauling over unfinished plots in the company of a few to many liquor battles. He had not produced any new writing and his editor was breathing down his neck for him to write a new novel. That was until last week when he decided to pass him off on to some newbie editor fresh out of uni.
Said editor was coming by that afternoon for a visit and Scot had nothing to offer the kid. Thus he found himself in his current predicament; a blank text document and a blank mind.
He pushed away from his desk and spun his office chair around a few times, then quickly regretted it when the room started to spin. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.
He's intended to only rest his eyes for a moment, but suddenly he was jarred to his senses by the doorbell. He quickly stumbled to his feet, glancing at the clock on his way to the door, he stopped and back tracted. It was already a quarter after four. He stared at the luminescent numbers trying to understand where the last five hours had gone. He'd fallen asleep and gotten nothing written and the person at the door was no doubt his new editor.
The doorbell rang a second time and Scot let out a sigh of defeat before making his way to the door, he knew he might as well get it over with already.
When the door came open he was surprised at the sight of the person in front of him. He looked younger then Scot new he was and he had a pretty face. The small blond smiled up at him and offered out his hand.
"I'm Matthew Williams, It's nice to meet you. I'll be your new editor." He introduced himself. Scot took his hand and gave it a firm shake.
"Scot Kirkland." He responded.
"I know." Matthew said bluntly, but appeared to have realized how rude he sounded because his face flushed and he looked away. "S-sorry! I meant that I was told how you were before and… um…" he tried to correct himself, but didn't seem to know what to say.
Scott grined, thinking then that his kid was going to be easy to manipulate.
"I really like your writing." He added. This came at no surprise to Scot, but his heart still skipped a beat when the blonde looked back up at him and met his eyes.
There was a long pause before Scot finely responded with a brief "Thanks."
Mathew's face lit up with a smile and Scot felt warm inside just looking at him. Without even realizing it he found himself mimicking the younger man's smile as he led him in to the house. Conversation came easily to the two of them after the initial awkwardness had passed and Matthew set in to discussing Scots writing. To the older man's surprise Matthew did not just nonstop praise his work like other young editors; he critiqued his work as though he had years of experience. What the boy had to say gave Scot a new understanding of his old writing and his newer unfinished work. He also had the skills to present his opinions in such a passive aggressive way that they never pissed Scot off like he thought they would. Before they knew it, it was time for Mathew to leave.
Scot led him back to the door, but it felt hard to part with him. Something about the younger man made him feel happy and motivated. Matthew lingered in the door way for a moment observing Scot.
"You looks sad, don't worry I'll be back really soon." He gave Scot a warm smile that made Scot not even care how much it sounded like he was treating him like a child. "Write something good wile I'm gone" He said, and waved as he walked away.
Scot watched the younger man go for a little longer then was normal before returning inside. His home felt a little too quiet as he made his way back to his computer, but his mind was churning with ideas and motivation to write again. He felt like there meeting was the beginning of something altogether new and it felt refreshing.
