Almost Perfect // 2

-+Tennyo

I groaned in frustration and banged my head against the wall several times. It's actually a secret method that I use to develop ideas. Really. You should try it sometime.

Writing a so-called "realistic" story was harder than I initially thought, and I was the one that came up with the idea. Aren't I a genius? However, pride wouldn't allow me to back away from the deal now! I must prevail! I must WIN!

Speaking of winning, Darien and I never spoke of a wager. I mean, going through so much trouble just to learn each other's perspectives shouldn't be a fruitless battle! Fine, we get to experience and experiment with a whole new way of thinking. But since when did anyone do anything just for those reasons? There had to be some kind of motive involved. I wasn't going to bend over backwards for nothing.

So I picked up the phone that sat right next to my desk and dialed Darien's work number from memory. Being the prompt person that he was, he picked up on the first ring.

"Yes."

"So you will marry me! Oh my gosh! Darien! That is what I've wanted to hear since the moment I first laid eyes on you! My heart is aflutter with excitement!"

"Can the sarcasm, Serena, I have work to do."

I snorted. "You? Do work? Ha!"

"Contrary to your personal belief, Serena, other people do have to work on a regular basis."

"Ha-ha. You know that wasn't what I meant."

"Oh, do I?" he joked, "So why'd you call? I know it isn't so you could hear my beautiful voice over the phone, especially since you could hear it in person."

"Oh please, don't make me sick. Anyway, what article are you working on now?"

"Why?" he asked suspiciously, "Since when did you care about what I write? As I recall, your comment on my last article was "where's the rest of it?" "

"Sor-ry," I said, not feeling sorry at all. "It just ended a little… abruptly."

"It was a CAR CRASH and a woman DIED, how continuous could it possibly be?"

"Okay, okay. So what are you working on now? Another dead corpse?"

"You know, Serena. You can be so heartless sometimes."

"I'm sorry if someone dies in New York City almost everyday, but I think we're all a little used to it by now. It's a little sad though, isn't it?"

"Yep."

"But what can we do about it?"

"Nothing much."

"Life's a bitch and then you die, is that it?"

"Pretty much, yeah."

I heard nothing over the phone except the busy clacking of the keyboard. I guess Darien really did have something to do, but I had a mission to accomplish!

"I know you're trying to ignore me Darien, but you forget that I am un-ignorable."

"Sure, sure."

"Darien!" I whined over the phone. He hates it when I whine. I know for a fact that I could get him to do anything when I whined. What can I say? It's a talent.

"No! Not with the whining! What do you want?"

"Your firstborn child."

Darien groaned. "Serena, just get right to the point. I've been talking to you for three minutes already and I still don't know what you're talking about. Stop beating around the bush and just come out with it!"

"I do NOT beat around the bush!"

"Yes you do!"

"No I don't!"

"Okay, okay! WHATEVER. Just hurry up, I'm kind of busy here."

"You're the one that wouldn't tell me what you're working on!" I yelled.

"What does what I'm working on have to do with anything?"

"It's about the agreement we had yesterday. Or have you already forgotten?"

"No, I didn't forget."

"So what are you working on?" I snorted, "And you say I beat around the bush."

"I'm working on an article about Independence Day."

"Oh yeah! That's coming up in a few weeks isn't it?"

"Yep, the editor told us to write a tribute to it."

"Us? Not just you?"

"No, I think she's going to pick one."

"Great! So that means you could give yours the edge that it needs over the others! If you add some flavor into it, yours will definitely be picked!"

"And how, pray tell, do you expect me to add some "flavor" into it?"

"Just look at my work and you'll find out."

"Ha-ha," he laughed dryly, "You're so funny."

"But seriously. Independence Day is a really important day in our history. It wouldn't be that hard to put more feeling and emotion into it. It should be tear-inducing."

"Right. And I'm going to take pointers from a novelist."

"Ugh. You don't want to get me started again."

"No. I don't."

"I'm glad we're on the same page here. Anyway, you're right. I do beat around the bush. Well not in the sense that I'm purposely trying to evade the subject, but it just takes me a while to get to my point."

"Of course I'm right. I'm always right."

"Sure, keep thinking that. Anyway, I called to see if we could set up a wager."

"A wager? What for?"

"For the deal we made. It'd be pretty pointless to change our whole perspective on writing just so we could learn from the experience."

"Learning is good."

"Riight. And that's why you used your master's degree in English, so you could become a teacher," I said, "So what do you say?"

"I say sure! Why not? Seeing as how I'm going to beat you anyway, let's turn it up a notch."

I rolled my eyes. "A little overconfident there are we?"

"I'm not being overconfident," he said, "It's the truth."

"Right, keep deluding yourself."

"So how's about whoever loses has to pay for a cruise to the Bahamas."

"That's great! I've always wanted to go there."

"Aww, sorry to take your dream away for you."

"The price is a bit out of your range isn't it?"

"I don't have to worry about that since you're going to be the one paying."

"Keep dreaming Rehnquist."

"So is it a deal then?"

"Yeah, it's a deal."

We both hung up and I grew even more determined at writing this new novel. Never mind the fact that I just recently finished writing one and had to promote it once it was published, I had a cruise to go on! So I wiggled my fingers above the keyboard and got to work.

Getting to work wasn't easy mind you, it was quite the contrary. I typed out a few paragraphs before I realized what I was doing. Baloney! Complete baloney! I was in the middle of describing the man's confident aura that utterly attracted the protagonist. Sure it was a nice trait to have, but being confident all the time isn't always a good thing. Argh! Who reads this trash?

I giggled out loud. Gosh Serena, millions of people do!

Well, why not billions? Because it sucks! These type of fantasies don't ever happen in real life! Why do people waste their time reading stuff that will never happen to them? Why would they read things that they can't possibly relate to?

No dear, stop feeling sorry for yourself. It's only because billions of people either can't read English or can't read at all.

Oh.

So while I was having conversations with myself, I noticed lunch was fast approaching. My fondness for food was becoming a little scary, even for me. But who cares? What's the point of living if you can't live happily? And eating is what makes me happy, I assured myself.

I grabbed my keys, along with my wallet, and headed to my favorite restaurant. It was this cozy little Italian restaurant that had outdoor tables. I loved eating while enjoying the warm weather and watching people's day to day interactions. Where else do you think most of my ideas come from?

Since it was only two blocks away, I didn't bother driving. It was useless to drive in Manhattan anyway. You'd only waste more time trying to find a parking space. So I walked there and was glad to see that there were still a few empty seats left outside. I sat down and ordered my favorite spaghetti and meatballs. Sure I could've ordered something more exotic, but why change my preference when I'm perfectly satisfied with it?

I had also lugged my laptop along with me, just in case I had a brilliant stroke of genius. Really, those things happened in the most inopportune moments and if I didn't quickly jot it down, I'd always end up forgetting it. Tsk. So many good ideas are lost that way.

I couldn't even count the number of times I had a fantastic idea that brought on goosebumps. It was losing ideas like those that I always end up regretting. There's always that itching feeling in my head that goes, what if that was the next bestseller?

It was all right though. I finally shrugged that habit off by carrying my laptop around with me. Or if I was lazy, I'd carry a little notepad at the very least. Being a professional writer didn't mean I could just toss off ideas and hope for new ones to come. I had a schedule to keep. It may seem lax to others, but it's actually not. Each time a deadline loomed closer and closer, I would stay up nights, trying to squeeze out every last detail.

Sometimes, ideas came in a flourish. And sometimes there'd be a drought. Those times always plagued my days. I never had a free second during that period. I would always worry if I would be able to get over the block and finish the novel in time. Being successful didn't ease the worries. It tripled it, in fact. The worries became more than being able to meet the deadlines. Added to it was also the worry of being able to meet people's expectations. Now that I had a fan base, I had to do my best to keep them and maybe even get more. And the only way to do that is to keep them happy.

How do I keep them happy? The hell if I know. But right now, I seemed to be doing a good job at it. Maybe one day, I'd get around to opening all those fan letters. It's not like I didn't care about what they thought, I do. It's just that after the first couple of letters came rolling in, it was tiring to read the same thing over and over. I really appreciated the fact that they enjoyed the story and went through the trouble of mailing me their thoughts, but couldn't they say something else besides the fact that they LOVED such and such character and if I would write a sequel to it?

It's great that they liked the story, but why couldn't they give more personal input. Instead of just saying that they loved the novel, why couldn't they say why they loved it? I couldn't reproduce the same type of characters all the time, but I could use the essence of a story over again and make it into something new if they liked it so much.

Maybe I was asking for too much. What person in their right mind would spend their day writing to a novelist about her story? I don't know, but those first few letters were discouraging. It didn't give me the feedback that I wanted. Or maybe I shouldn't have given up so early. Yeah, maybe the answers I wanted were in the more recent letters.

So as it is commonly said: there's only one way to find out. However, that could wait for a little while longer. The waiter came with my food and placed it in front of me. He left with a smile and a bon apetite! Why was he speaking French in an Italian restaurant? Damned if I know.

I dug into the steamy plate of spaghetti and nearly gobbled it down. It was very unladylike of me to be chomping down a whole plate of spaghetti and meatballs like a starved woman, but who cares? Of course, I was receiving a few stares here and there- which is very rude I might add- but I didn't know these people, so it was okay.

A noise disturbed my feasting, however, and I turned to see the cause of the ruckus. I looked up just in time to see a woman yank a diamond ring off her left hand and flung it at a man.

"That's IT! We're through!" The woman yelled and began to stomp off in a fury. The man caught up with her with a confused look on his face. He looked nervously around the restaurant, embarrassed at being the center of attention. The woman grabbed his face so that she could look directly at him.

"You NEVER get it. You're NEVER going to get it," she said each word slowly as if it would help him understand. "Even now, when I'm about to leave you, all you care about is what people think of you. Since when did you become so concerned with your appearance?"

The man spoke softly and I couldn't catch his words. Whatever he said must've pissed her off because she snatched her arm away from his grasp and walked away with her head held high and her shoulders straight.

"When you finally realize that a wife isn't an emotionless possession," she said, "Give me a call."

I was close enough to the show to see the woman's weakened resolve as she walked away from her husband. Her confident steps were dragging towards the ground a little, and her proud stance was slightly slumped. It hurt some part of me to see a married couple break up, and I realized then, what I had forgotten about real life. It was buried underneath all the fairy dust that my heart was hiding under: the fact that people do get hurt and nothing ever turns out the way you want them to. Life mates fought, too. After the first few weeks, all the glam and the glitz wore off and you start to see your significant other in a different light. Flaws that you couldn't, or wouldn't see before are magnified tenfold.

So what do people do then?

Everyone wishes that things will always work out, but more often that not, they don't. Maybe it is because of this despondency that makes my novels so attractive to so many readers. I weaved stories that their hearts want to read, not their brains. It might be better to write something more realistic, but what would be the point? Why would anyone want to read about something that they have already experienced in real life? It'd be like paying to see a movie you starred in. It wouldn't make any sense.

This puzzled me for awhile, and I sat there idly, forgetting about my food. The man was still standing there, looking forlorn and lost at the spot where his wife had previously stood. I wanted to scream in his face. Why was he just standing there? He should catch her before she's gone for good!

But as I sat there, staring at his dejected face, I sympathized. How do you ever know when something is worth chasing for? There are so many opportunities for mistakes, so many paths that are strewn with rocks. How do you ever know when it's the right time to risk hurting your feet?

Suddenly, the man snapped out of his stupor and his face lit up. His whole body seemed to change as he renewed his determination. He clutched the ring that was in his hand and sprinted in the direction where his wife had gone.

I was left in a state of awe. It seemed like a miracle to witness that kind of realization firsthand. Instantly, I hoped the man would work it out with his wife, that he would improve whatever his wife had found reason enough to break off their marriage. The woman had said to call her later, so maybe he still had a chance to make it up to her. Maybe this could even be the basis for my new story and maybe they could-

I stopped myself short.

So this is what Darien was talking about. I chuckled to myself.

People don't change that easily.

---

Hey people! This seemed like the PERFECT place to end, so I did! :D I hope you guys like the rewrite. Thanks to all the reviewers who pointed out that some of the chapters had nothing to do with the storyline. I think it was EI and CR who mentioned it. Thanks a lot guys!

I hope this sticks more to what this whole story is about. If not, please tell me soon! I love all the feedback you guys give me and it gives me more motive to write better. *huggles* Thanks!

Tennyo012@yahoo.com