~Oliver's Diary~

"Where's Myrnin?" Claire asked Shane.

"I don't know," he replied. "I can't feel when he's not around."

"I hope he gets back soon, so we can play vampire Sudoku or…something."

Myrnin emerged from the hallway sprinting, though why he was using a human speed, Claire didn't know.

"OH MY GOD, LOOK WHAT I FOUND!" He shouted with urgency.

"Is that a book?" Shane asked.

"I know a thing or two about books and that's a book," Claire nodded.

"It's not just any book, guys." Myrnin shook the book emphatically.

"Is it a young adult vampire romance novel?" Shane asked excitedly.

Myrnin and Claire gave him disbelieving looks.

~10 Seconds later…~

"Anyway, I just happened to find this book in Oliver's bedroom in a locked trunk under his bed," Myrnin continued. "It's his diary!"

"Wow! Shall we read it?" Shane asked, face to the corner he was put into time out in.

"I've got a better idea," Myrnin said. "Let's read it!"

"Oh, what a fascinating character study this will be," Claire nodded to herself.

"Okay," Myrnin opened the book. "This is the first entry, Dear Diary…"

~Entry One~

Today, I ate some oatmeal for my breakfast. It was flavorless and watery. I thought of my mother.

I cried.

~End of first entry~

"I'm hungry," Shane announced, spinning his arms back and forth with boredom.

"What else is new, fatty?" Myrnin said to Shane, displeased that he was interrupted. "Let's get to the good stuff…"

~Entry two~

Today, I put on my raincoat, and traveled to Nocturne Alley. I purchased a pair of fancy mice. When I brought them home, one devoured the other and died of loneliness.

I felt envy.

~End of entry~

"This is hilarious," Myrnin proclaimed.

"Oh look, Myrnin." Claire said suddenly. "I see your name."

"Oh, you're good at reading, Claire." Shane marveled.

"What?" Myrnin demanded in outrage.

~Entry three~

Today, Myrnin showed me his middle finger. When I attempted to punish him with a staking, he shoved me into a wall screaming, "Bother, bother," over and over. Later, he and his assistant repeated the violent act until I lost consciousness. Tonight, I prayed for the first time in twenty years.

I prayed for the end.

~End of entry~

"I remember that, Claire. Give me five," he said to Shane, raising his hand in the ear.

"You already took my money, Myrnin."

Myrnin sighed. "Never mind."

~Entry Four~

I lost a button on my shirt today. Amelie pointed it out in front of the entire Elders Council. Oh, cruel attention.

Button, O button,

Oh where hath thou fled?

Did thee tarry too long amongst fabric and thread?

Did thee roll of my bosom and cease to exist?

How I wish I could follow thee, into the mist.

~End of entry~

"What is a…bosom, Myrnin?" Shane asked seriously.

"Um…"

"Yeah, tell him, Myrnin." Claire insisted with a grin.

"Oh look, another page." Myrnin buried his face in the book pointedly.

~Entry Five~

Today while in the bathtub—

["EW!" all three proclaimed.]

I fell asleep and had a nightmare. I was riding a festral through a thunderstorm, every thunderclap resolved into…their voices. "Bother, bother."

Suddenly, it became music. I was at the Yule Ball, with Amelie. I asked her to dance.

She asked me to die.

Would that I could, Amelie. Would that I could.

["My friend is awesome," Myrnin proclaimed brightly.]

When I awoke, my skin was prune-like from the tepid bathwater, and I was late for golf with Richard Morrell.

~End of entry~

"Mm, I like prunes." Shane said brightly.

"Did somebody say prunes?" Amelie poked her head into the room, which wasn't that strange, considering they were in the Glass House living room, and she had a knack for popping up out of nowhere..

"I said prunes!" Shane said. "How did she know?" he asked Claire.

"What are you monkeys up to? Studying or something like that?" Amelie asked.

"No," Myrnin shook his head. "We're invading Oliver's privacy by reading his personal diary, which we stole from his room."

Amelie paused for a moment. "…But you don't have any prunes do you?"

"I'm afraid not," Myrnin shook his head again.

Amelie stared at him with disapproval. "I'm very disappointed in you, Myrnin."

And she disappeared.

"Okay, back to the stinky book!" Myrnin said giddily, and delved back in.

~Entry six~

Today, Claire's boyfriend accidentally drank of my more bitter blends of cocoa. He promptly vomited a glittering rainbow of foul waste and Common Grounds erupted in applause, triggering my migraine. I aborted the shop and was left to clean the boy's sick.

Halfway through, Myrnin showed up, and bragged about his many affairs with duchesses and ladies of the past.

Then he told me I smelled of broccoli and left without wishing me a happy birthday.

Later, I noticed my bottle of Sangria was gone. I settled for a cup of coffee, scalding my writing hand in the process and spilling it on my pants.

I walked to Dr. Goldman's, covering the wet spot with a book. Patience Goldman laughed at me and made me wait while she and her husband treated a young vampire with a minor silver burn.

After an hour, it became apparent that they had forgotten about me, so I returned to my shop and found that I had locked myself out.

I called for Myrnin, who turned up covered in lipstick and clearly having finished my Sangria.

He broke open my door, laughed at me, punched me in the shoulder too hard, and left me alone.

I thought of my father.

I cried.

~End of entry~

"This got boring," Myrnin announced with displeasure. "Let's write a new entry."

"That's a really fun idea," Shane nodded.

"Here's one of the pens I carry with me at all times!" Claire announced conveniently.

"Okay," Myrnin took it, and began reading aloud as he wrote. "'I am Oliver. I'm so sad because I poop my pants—all the time. I don't have any friends, because I stink like broccoli and poop. I teach how to make coffee to Myrnin, and it's really boring because he's so cool, and it makes me have depression. Okay, I think I'll go cry now, because—but not before I poop my pants—because…bye.'"

Shane laughed and clapped his hands. "Can I try?"

"Be my guest," Myrnin said graciously and handed Shane the book and pen.

Shane did as Myrnin, reading as he wrote. "'I…am…O—"

"Okay, Shane. That was a good try," Claire stopped him.

The front door of the Glass House banged open and Oliver came in, holding his head and grumbling.

"Somebody knocked my unconscious and ransacked my shop—wait a minute, that book! What are you doing?" Oliver shouted.

"Oliver, Shane stole your diary!" Myrnin accused to shift the blame, rather splendidly if he should say so himself.

"What?" Oliver proclaimed indignantly. "You didn't read it, did you?"

"Oh, he read it all right. He read it all." Myrnin nodded.

"This is unacceptable," Oliver screamed.

"I liked the story about the button, Oliver." Shane said honestly.

Oliver's eyes stopped bulging. "You…you did?"

"It made me sad," Shane nodded. "Thinking about that little button, lost and alone. I hope you find your button, Oliver."

A tear slid down Oliver's cheek. "So do I, Claire's boyfriend. So. Do. I."

"I like buttons," Shane announced happily.