Dramacon fanfiction: Emails

Christie inhaled the scent of her tea, not yet having enough energy to lift the cup to her lips. It was finally Saturday, the welcomed weekend break from her hectic college schedule. She could finally relax, and maybe get the script for the next chapter of Wary City written. Yattacon was only a month away, and it would be the first time in several months that Bethany and Chris had had the chance to meet up. It would be good if she had something new to present her best friend with when they met again in person.

The computer beeped and whirled its way into life as Christie sipped her drink. She always started her day by checking her emails, and updating her blog if there was anything to write about. Of course, there seemed to be only ever one thing she did write about…and she'd dreamt about him again last night.

She placed down the cup to scroll through the emails. Junk, junk, new page from Beth, junk, junk, blog comment…

The blog comment would probably be from Monica. She and Hyu-Jeong had been trying to whip Chris into shape recently, since she'd been so down about Matt. Bethany and Christie had kept up a regular correspondence with the two girls and Raj since the previous convention. It turned out Monica had been right when she'd claimed that as neighbours they were best friends to be: they just couldn't seem to shake the girls these days.

She left the page from Beth until after her morning tea and decided to answer the blog comment first. No time like the present for dealing with crazy cat girls. That way, the torture was over with sooner.

Only the comment wasn't from Monica.

You misspelled 'salaciousness' in today's entry

Matt

It took Christie's brain a moment to process the words, and then she spat tea all over her monitor.

Later she was thankful for email, and the fact that Matt wouldn't be able to tell that she took two hours to compose a suitable reply.

Thank you for pointing out my mistakes. I do apologize that my spelling is so poor that you had to go to all the trouble of contacting me.

But since you did: how are you?

Christie

Christie nervously awaited his reply all morning. Needless to say, she didn't have enough concentration to get any writing done.

---

I felt it my duty to point out your mistakes, since there is obviously a gaping void in your ability to spell correctly. As a writer I'd expect you to appreciate my creative criticism.

I am no better or worse than when we parted, although I am now wonderfully single, which saves me from the nagging of a girlfriend.

What about you? I hope you're less sleep deprived than you were while writing your last blog entry.

Matt

---

Christie wanted to dig a hole to crawl into. Just how long had Matt been reading her blog? This was infinitely embarrassing.

And also rather hopeful. Matt had obviously contacted her because of her entries. What if he'd liked what he'd read? Although it was more likely than not that he'd been completely freaked out by her obsession, he'd contacted her regardless.

Plus he was no longer with Emily, and he'd made that clear in his first real message. He was probably trying to tell her something.

"But he made mean comments about your spelling!" Christie's angel protested as she pressed the reply icon.

"Matt flirts by making guarded comments. Reply, reply, reply!" urged the demon

This time, the email only took one hour to compose.

---

I'm sorry to hear about Emily, has that happened recently?

I am still struggling to sleep between lectures and studying, but the summer is not far away, so I can cram a year's sleep into those few months if I try, I'm sure.

As for being grateful for your help: you might try to make it more constructive and less criticising before you start offering it. Constructive criticism is normally kinder than your barbs.

Obviously the tact I bought you last time has run out. Remind me to buy you some more sometime.

Christie

---

Hyu-Jeong commented on Christie's blog that afternoon, and Christie wrote her a long, essay like email about Matt in return. Soon she and Monica were emailing back and forth with Christie, analysing every word, phrase, sentence and punctuation mark Matt had used in his emails.

It was good to have someone on her side, but a little scary that they seemed even more obsessed than she was.

---

Emily and I broke up not long after last year's convention. I've had nearly a whole year free of her. Now if only I get rid of Sandra my life would finally be perfect.

I believe that you're probably doing less studying than you make out. You're writing manga all night, not studying, and everyone knows it.

And you don't need to buy me anything so utterly useless. Life is much more simple without sugar coating my words.

Matt

---

Reading his emails made Christie wonder how she'd ever deluded herself into thinking he was the perfect guy. He was a bigger jerk than Derek had been most of the time. At least Derek hadn't been awful until the very end of their relationship…

But Matt was honest and chivalrous. His heart was in the right place, even if his mouth wasn't. True, he was bitter, but he'd been hurt. The mental scars went deeper than his physical ones.

"He needs our love," chirped the angel.

"And he's gorgeous," observed the demon. "One brilliant kisser, too."

Christie really didn't have a choice but to keep chasing after him when both her conscience and her inner evil both agreed on something.

---

Well thank you Mr Subtle. It's good to see you haven't changed; still as much of a jerk as ever.

So tell me, just how long have you been stalking my blog?

Christie

---

The word "stalk" should sound creepy, only it didn't when she thought of Matt taking the time to check how her life was going. Actually, it was rather sweet.

This was a man who could re-define Chris's dictionary.

---

Stalking? I am at perfect liberty to read information you post publicly. I am insulted that you would sink so low as to name call over a simple blog comment.

It's none of your business what I read on the Internet, or for how long.

Matt

---

The conversation lasted days, and that dragged on into weeks. Once she fell asleep across her keyboard waiting for his reply. Twice she was late returning assignments because she was distracted.

And all the time YattaCon loomed nearer. As the days ticked by the longing and excitement grew steadily within Chris. Not only would she experience the excitement that could only be felt at an anime convention, not only would she see her best friend again, not only would she be cosplaying for the first time; but this time something real and lasting would happen. She could feel it. Yes, this time she had a real hope for something that would last into the future. Against her better judgement she continued to long for the day she could see Matt again with everything within her.

---

Sandra sends her regards. She told me to convey that she's making something for you.

She wants to send you some pictures of it, but her computer's on the blink at the moment.

Do you mind if I pass on your cell phone number to her?

Matt

---

Later Christie gave the excuse that she was too tired to see through Matt's feeble plot.

Plus, talking to Sandra sounded like a very welcome idea. She'd always been much more forward than Matt in expressing Matt's emotions; she probably figured that someone had to do it for him.

She'd also always been very eager to see Christie and Matt get together. It would be nice to have an ally who knew him so well, rather than just two crazy cat girls who didn't know a thing about romance that didn't come from shojo manga.

Christie had just been naive, and trusting, and tired enough to actually email him her number, and just believe that he'd pass it on to Sandra and then forget all about it.

Fat chance.

---

Should I be scared or excited? Knowing Sandra probably a little of both. Give her my regards and tell her to ring me soon, I've not spoken to her in ages!

### ##### #####

Christie

---

Costs for this year's convention had been reduced dramatically by sharing everything with the crew from Firebird Studio. There were only two weeks to go, and the table confirmation had arrived that morning. The hotel had been booked, the packing planned, and Monica had organised for herself, Hyu-Jeong, Raj and Christie to travel down on the coach together.

What's more Bethany had won the t-shirt design competition!

Everything would go perfectly this year; Chris could feel it.

Christie's phone buzzed.

"Hello!" she chirped happily.

"Hey, Chris."

Two simple words were enough to send her pulse racing. She'd not heard it in a year, but she'd know that voice anywhere. Her imagination reeled. Her heart lurched. She took a deep breath to get her thoughts in order, and asked a completely unnecessary question.

"Matt, is that you?"

"Yeah. You okay?"

"I'm…good. Why are you calling me?" Christie tried so hard not to let her voice shake, but it did a little anyway. This was so much more embarrassing than emailing. He could hear the time it took for her to fabricate a response.

"You gave me your number, remember? And I wanted to hear your voice."

Christie tried not to hyperventilate. She was supposed to be mad at Matt. He should have passed along her number to Sandra, not use it.

"Try to act a little less desperate, please, Matt. I repeat, why are you ringing me? You said you were going to pass the number on to Sandra so she co…"

"Oh, I'm not even talking to Sandra after the stunt she pulled last week, so I'm not going to be passing messages on to her."

"But…I…you said…"

His throaty chuckle rumbled through the mobile's small speakers. Christie could clearly picture the smug grin across his face. She scowled at the phone.

"Just tell me what you want and then leave me alone."

"There's no need to be mad. You were the one who gave me the number."

"You took advantage of my tired frame of mind."

"It's not my fault you can't think for yourself. It's not like it was obvious or anything. I can't believe you fell for it."

Christie wouldn't have been surprised had there been flames erupting from her mouth as she spoke to him. He was a stupid, arrogant snot. "Matt, you are not helping my temper. What do you want?"

"I was just wondering if you'd like me to drive you to the convention."

A few seconds of processing were needed before Christie decided how to respond. "But Matt, that's like two hundred miles out of your way."

"No big deal," he responded flippantly. She could imagine him shrugging away her remark. "It means Sandra has more room in her car for boxes. I'll pick you up on the morning of around nine, and so we'll be there around…"

"Matt, I'm travelling across with Monica," Chris interrupted. Her little demon scowled at her. Her little angel nodded approval, although you could see her sighing with disappointment at the same time. It wasn't fair to waste Monica's efforts, but travelling with Matt was an awfully wonderful idea. She must be mad to refuse him.

Static in the speakers indicated Matt sighing. "I'm sorry for tricking you," he apologized. "Please don't be mad."

A lump caught in Christie's throat. "I'm sorry," he had said that night a year ago in the rain. Christie was sorry too: sorry that she hadn't called him in time. Sorry that they hadn't got together in the first place. Sorry they weren't the same age and in the same state. Sorry that things were so difficult.

"It's not you. It's Monica. She's already booked the coach tickets, and they're non-returnable," she explained. She hoped her voice didn't crack.

"Oh. Well, I guess I'll see you there then," Matt replied simply. He didn't sound overly disappointed, but then the only emotion Matt pulled off effectively was disapproval. "I'm looking forward to it. I'll call you sometime before hand."

"I'm still mad at you!" Christie insisted, her attempt at anger feeble to say the least.

Without another word he chuckled and hung up.

Christie glared at the phone long after he'd hung up.

She didn't care if he read it or not, this was going in her blog.

She closed her eyes and remembered the conversation. "I'll see you there then. I'm looking forward to it." This convention wasn't going to be perfect; Chris could feel it.

It was going to be better than perfect.