A/N: Well! The last time I updated was the eve of AA5's release. …I just beat AA6 earlier this afternoon. I guess that means it's been awhile, huh…
If I were to respond to all of the many, many wonderful reviewers who've left feedback over the course of VKN's hiatus, I'm afraid this already-lengthy author's note would be longer than this Interlude. But I still want to take a moment to thank all of you for everything you've said—the encouragements, the analyses, the suggestions, and the criticisms. Though my update schedule might not reflect it, it's been incredibly inspirational reading all your reviews. In fact, thanks to everyone who's stopped to read this little fic of mine, whether you reviewed or not, whether it's a favourite or filler; thanks for stopping by! I said when I began uploading this story that updates would be sporadic at best, but even I didn't expect such a long gap as this. Nonetheless, to those of you who have expressed concerns that I've let this one alone for so long: I've outlined three chapters and written two which belong later in the story, since I'm shooting for chronological order; time restrictions and writer's block on Chapter 8 have been what's slowing me up. I wanted to post Chapter 8 today, but alas, I couldn't quite push the last third or so of the chapter out in time…and given the nature of this story and today's date, I wanted to post something before we roll over to the 29th out here in the land of Eastern Standard Time. I'm hoping to have Chapter 8 online within a week, and with any luck, there'll be more to come in a more reasonable time frame after that. But for now, enjoy, and…
…Don't forget DL-6.
Interlude Four
Dear Miles—1
Heya, Miles!
It's been a while, huh? It took forever but Dad finally found out where you were! Oh, Larry's writing too, by the w
(A jagged line of pencil veers sharply away from the next letter, weaving in an uneven zigzag off the edge of the paper. The next line is written in a different hand.)
Yo! Edgey how ya b
(The strange markings return, disappearing over the left side of the page this time, and the first style of handwriting returns.)
And he STILL has no manners. Sorry. I'd get another piece of paper but we're at school and I had to ask the teacher for this one already. She doesn't like Larry much so I don't think she'll let us have another one. Anyway, like I said, Dad talked to Ray Shields at your dad's office and he said you'd gone to live in Germany. I guess maybe you have family there? So Larry and I were thinking and my mom and dad said it'd be okay if you called us at my house sometime even though you're overseas. And then you could tell us your new number so we can call you, too!
Okay, I'm going to let Larry have the pencil for a little bit now.
(This time, when the handwriting changes, it's a smoother transition.)
een? Man can you believe Nick cutting me off like that? Talk about rude! He's been moping like crazy since you went off. Dude needs a girlfriend, Edgey! Tell him he needs a girl! Cuz he won't listen to me. Now see me, I got a girl! Her name's Ruby and she's a TOTAL BABE.
(Each letter in the two last words has been traced over multiple times with visible enthusiasm. Blocky and dark, they seem to leap off the page and throw a swift punch each at the reader's eyes.)
And she's got a sister who's real into art stuff so she'd be perfect for Nick don't ya think? C'mon man, get him to go out with this chick cuz I bet Ruby even knows a girl who's into bookworms and I can totally hook you up! I AM THE DATEMASTER! But it seriously sucks that you're not here anymore cuz now the teach keeps giving us group stuff and we don't have anyone who knows everything anymore. Lame! Anyway Nick's reading over my shoulder and now he's turning kind of a weird pink red purple color and I think he wants me to stop writing now. Later, man!
(The next lines are barely recognisable as the first style of writing, as though they have been scribbled hastily.)
Miles I do not need a girlfriend. Do not help Larry. I can get my own girlfriend. When I want to. And I don't want to. Yet, I mean. DO NOT HELP LARRY.
There's a bunch more I want to talk to you about, but we only have the one sheet of paper and we're running out of room, and besides you're going to call us soon so we can all really talk. So I guess that's it.
(There are tiny lines of graphite to the left of the next line, as though the writer repeatedly put pencil to paper and withdrew it until finally resuming.)
I miss you.
Phoenix
~Larry
...
(This seems to be the end of the letter, but closer inspection reveals writing on the back of the paper, in the same handwriting as the second signature, right between the two creases that break the page in thirds—seemingly added after the letter had already been folded, just before it went into the envelope.)
P.S. Me too.