"So, like, would you do Pastor K?" Mae asked.
"What?!" Trent replied. They'd been silent for about five minutes so far, and so many thoughts had been running through his head. So many things that Mae had said had so many implications, such heavy weightiness to them…
And she hit him with that.
"You heard me."
"She's a Pastor!"
"I don't think they have to be cerebrate…"
"Celibate, and that...why are you asking?"
"Stop dodging the question. Would you? Like if me and Bea and Selmers were all cool with it, and Kate started coming onto you. If she was all like 'oh Trent, no one wants to fuck me because I run the church and I'm so horny…', like-"
"I can't imagine the F word coming out of her mouth."
"Stop dodging! Would you hit that?" Mae asked.
"I mean...yeah."
"Really?! But she's like...old!"
"She isn't really that old. She's probably in her late thirties, maybe early forties."
"Yeah! That's like old! That's like my mom old!" Trent shrugged. "Wait, would you do my mom? Tell the truth!"
"How did we get onto this topic?" he muttered.
"I told you to quit dodging!"
"Fine! You want the truth!? Yeah, I'd do your mom."
She laughed loudly. "Ew! Gross!"
"You asked!"
"I know!" She kept laughing, then grew suddenly serious. "Don't ever do my mom, okay? That would fuck up the relationship. I know I'm all like 'sex is awesome have it with everyone!' but like, don't fuck my mom. Okay?"
"Okay. I promise I won't fuck your mom. I think your dad would have something to say about that anyway, and I'm also not a homewrecker," he replied. "And besides, I doubt your mom would ever come onto me. Can we please stop talking about this?!"
Mae laughed again, almost deviously this time. "Yeah, okay."
"Why do you find this conversation so amusing!?"
"I have no idea but I do. Maybe I like seeing you squirm sometimes."
He sighed heavily. "Gee thanks."
"Was Bea okay?" she asked.
Trent glanced at her. "You give me whiplash sometimes." She stared back at him. He returned his attention to the front. "Yes. She had some trouble because last night kind of pissed her off but we got it sorted out."
"Is she mad at Jen? Shit, I probably should've thought more about that…"
"No, she's not mad at Jen." He hesitated. "Okay, she's frustrated with Jen, but not because we had sex. I mean, not exactly-it's complicated. But we're fine. Everyone had fun."
"Okay, good. Honestly...I got so excited about watching you and Jen, like, it kind of clouded everything else."
"So I think that, going forward, and this is something we should all discuss, actually, given the way last night turned out: if one of us is seriously thinking about involving someone, sexually or romantically, with us or each other, we should all tell each other first. That was a very nice surprise, and it was very appreciated, but it could have gone wrong in a number of ways, I think," Trent said.
"You're right," Mae said. "I'll speak up in the future, although I don't really have anyone else in mind. I doubt I can talk Pastor Kate into it…"
"Would you seriously be interested in that happening?" he asked.
"Yeah, for sure. I'd be pretty damn curious to see what she's like during sex-do you really think she's cute?" she asked.
"Yeah, do you not?"
"I...don't know. I mean I didn't, but now you've got me questioning it. She's an adult. Like an ADULT, with a capital A. A grown up. But I guess I can see it...maybe. But I doubt she'd ever actually admit to wanting to bounce on your dick, even if she does," Mae replied.
Trent laughed. "Bounce on my dick?"
"I mean that's what we're doing."
"Riding sounds a lot better."
"I guess...so, uh, still got any questions about God and the Sky Cat or anything?"
"No, that pretty much summed it up," he replied. "Man, that's...a lot. Like a lot."
"Yep." She frowned. "You okay? Something's bugging you."
"Yeah," he replied after a few seconds. He wondered if her ability to read minds, or rather, read people really well with an uncanny accuracy, would ever fade, which triggered another thought. "Something is bugging me, but really quick, before I forget: you're fucking smart, Mae."
"What? Why do you say that?"
"Listening to you ask those questions of Pastor Kate, explaining yourself and your position on religion, I have never heard you articulate yourself so well. Like, you sounded fucking smart. And not just sounded smart, like how some people look up words in the thesaurus to bullshit? No, like, you actually sounded like a genuinely intelligent person, clearly explaining themselves in an easy to understand way. There's no way you're stupid. And it's not like I thought you were stupid or even lacked intelligence before hearing that, but I really just wanted to point it out that this conversation really drove it home."
Mae was silent for a moment, and a quick glance told him that she wanted to argue, but she was thinking. "Shit," she muttered, "I guess so. I knew I wasn't just some dumb hick! God, I've felt so fucking stupid ever since going to college! I've never felt really smart, but I didn't feel dumb. You know, for the most part...also, I guess that's mean to the people who are actually nice around here but aren't like super smart…"
"You are right, and also there are different ways to be smart."
"Yeah, okay. Thanks, for pointing that out. Now tell me what's wrong."
He sighed. "You remember how you had that feeling of like, you wanted to get started with your next life chapter, but you just kept spinning your wheels?"
"Yeah, and I was right."
"You were. But I feel that way about my writing. I posted my shorts, my two novels, but I don't know what to do next. I've got some work done on another project, something new, but it doesn't feel right. All I seem to want to do is write fucking fan fiction for Demontower."
"Maybe that's what you should be doing?"
"That doesn't pay the bills," Trent replied.
"I guess not...well, you don't have to keep writing it. I mean, like, I really appreciate it, but I don't want you to derail your career just to make me happy."
"It's not that. I mean, I'm invested in it because it makes you happy and I like that, but I'm also like really into it. Like, I'd be doing this even if you weren't a factor."
"Huh...shit, I dunno then. But the answer will probably come to you. I mean, we've got time."
He sighed. "Yeah, we do, it's just...we're probably going to feel like we've got time right up until we don't. I mean, yes, we have a house. Absolute worst case scenario I think it'd be hard to take it from us. But we gotta eat, we need electricity, the internet, water. And yeah, we can definitely afford to be a lot smarter with the money we do have, of which there's still a fair amount, especially in a place like this where the cost of living is pretty low. But...I believe you. I think this place is gonna die. And I don't know, maybe it'll be a few months, or maybe a few years, or even decades, but within our lifetime, and not when we're like super old, either. We're going to want to live in Bright Harbor, and besides the fact that moving out there will be expensive, that's a coastal city. The cost of living is like the opposite, it's hella expensive out there."
Mae groaned. "Yeah, you're right. Just...I don't know. I feel like I spent so much time just...waiting. And feeling bad. And then finally I got to the parts I was waiting for, and they put me through the fucking ringer dude, like goddamn. And I just want to fucking chill now. But you're right."
"I mean, so are you. You have been through a lot. So has Bea, and Ann. You all deserve a break. And we're still in a place where we can afford to take one. I guess I'm just scared of getting complacent, and suddenly it's three years later, and we're still talking about about this, you know?"
"Yeah, I guess so. I don't really, like...I don't know about this stuff. Okay yeah, I'm not calling myself dumb, but I didn't really learn about stuff like bills and mortgages and inflation and fucking adulting, you know?"
"Same. But we're getting along, I think. I know getting the house is like this huge unfair advantage. But we've got Ann and Bea, and they know about this stuff."
"That they do," Mae said as they pulled back into the driveway. They got out of the car and headed into the house.
Bea and Ann sat on the couch, watching Rick & Morty.
"Hey you two, everything okay?" Ann asked, pausing it.
"Yeah, we're cool. Also can I watch? I saw some episodes while I was at college and always wanted to watch more but I didn't actually make any friends who had access to it," Mae replied.
Ann laughed. "Of course you can watch, Mae."
"I cannot believe I missed this," Bea said.
"I can. Look at where we live."
She sighed. "Yeah, we must've missed so much cool shit…"
"On the other hand, that means you get to experience so many cool things, and I get the joy of watching a lot of stuff with you and seeing you experience it for the first time," Trent replied.
"Is that a joy?" Ann asked.
"Have you ever seen John Carpenter's The Thing?" Trent asked.
"Yeah, I have…" She smiled suddenly. "Oh. Yeah, okay, I see it now. That'd be fucking awesome to watch with someone who's never seen it before."
"Why did you add the, I'm presuming, director's name to it?" Bea asked. "I've heard of The Thing, like the snow movie with the guys going crazy?"
"I missed that one," Mae murmured.
"You'll love it. We need to have a movie night with all of us and Gregg and Angus. As for why, there was a prequel released much later with literally the same title, The Thing, and it was very, very bad." He paused. "Maybe that's being overly critical. I kind of liked it...but ultimately hated it. You'll understand why after watching the eighties film and we can discuss it at length. Anyway, uh...I'm going to go try and be a writer for a bit."
"Come down and hang out if you get too frustrated," Bea said.
"I will," he replied.
Trent headed upstairs and fired up his laptop. He opened up the document holding everything he'd put together so far for his new novel and read through it, then stared at the screen for a bit, then hesitantly typed out a few more sentences in the broader plot layout. Hesitated, typed a bit more, hesitated even longer, then finally gave up with a sigh and got online. He checked through his social media, found a surprising amount of followers on one of his accounts from the last time he'd checked, and then switched over to his e-mail.
He had a few messages in the spam folder and almost clicked delete all but something made him hesitate. He actually read over the three messages. Two of them were clearly phishing scams, he could tell just from the email addresses and wording in the headers, but one…
One was off. And it was from someone who called themselves Tabby.
That was immediately familiar, and it didn't take long to dredge up exactly where he knew that name from.
Tabby was what the creator of Demontower, Tabitha Hinkman, called herself.
The subject read Regarding Your Work.
"Oh fuck…" he whispered, getting a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.
Cautiously, he opened it up, praying that it wasn't some kind of takedown notice or condemnation of his novelization of her series of games.
It was incredibly, absurdly rare as far as he knew. And really, the only serious issues that ever arose from something like writing fan fiction was when a famous author felt like being a dick and went out of their way to write all the big sites and let them know they'd take legal action if they allowed fan fictions of their work to be posted.
There weren't many of them, but they knew who they were.
He began to read the e-mail. It wasn't very long.
Mister Sinclair,
Hello!
I'm very bad at messages, so I'll cut to the point. A lot of people have begun messaging me about your novelization of Demontower. On the whole, I am a fan of fan fiction but mostly I don't read it because I'm really busy with making games and life stuff.
I was intrigued by yours simply because of the fervor it produced and started reading.
And I was immediately hooked.
You ate an entire day of my time. I literally sat there and read the entire thing, everything you've written so far. I didn't even know that was possible, given I am the person who literally created the game and its universe.
I've done a bit of research on you and you seem to be an indie author just getting started, which surprised me, given the level of quality of the writing.
I would like to discuss the possibility of entering into an agreement together to self-publish this and split the proceeds.
Let me know if you are interested.
If not, please carry on.
I need more.
-Tabby
"No. Fucking. Way," Trent whispered, sitting back in his seat.
He stared at the screen for a long time. Then he reread the email.
Then he read it again.
He looked at the address it had come from. It seemed legit. He quickly jumped over to Tabby's professional website and checked out the official contact information.
It was the same.
He checked it three times over, just to be sure. After a moment, he moved it to his inbox, then he sat back in his chair again.
This didn't seem possible, but all at once, his own assessment of things 'not feeling right' seemed abruptly perfectly accurate. Could this be why he hadn't been able to move forward? Was it something, the same something that had been 'telling' Mae not to start anything new because something big was on the horizon? Was it intuition? Was it Mae herself, without realizing it? Doing it to herself, and then to him, knowing this was coming along without actually realizing it?
Or was it all just coincidence?
He supposed none of it actually mattered. What mattered was that he was absolutely going to do this…
But he needed to do research first.
Actually, first, he needed to tell someone.
Standing up, he grabbed his laptop and began making his way down the stairs. He had to fight not to stagger. He felt shell-shocked, or stoned. He heard the sounds of Rick & Morty and the girls laughing as he approached the living room.
As he came in, Mae looked over. "Whoa...what's wrong, babe?" she asked.
"Yeah Trent, you looked like...I dunno, someone just whacked you with a bat," Ann agreed, pausing the cartoon.
"Read this," he replied, setting the laptop down in front of them on the coffee table and then sitting in the recliner.
All three of them leaned forward and began reading.
Mae was the first to break the silence. "Holy shit! Holy shit!"
"Is this fucking real?" Bea asked.
"I think it is. I triple-checked: that's her official e-mail account at the very least."
"If this is legit...damn, man," Ann said, "that's fucking incredible. Like...incredible."
"How are you going to verify this?" Bea asked as she finished reading it.
"Get in touch with her...a phone call? No, I guess like a skype call. I know what she looks like. And then we'll talk about the whole thing...if she's serious and this is legit, she'll probably want to have me sign some kind of contract…"
"I actually know about some of that shit," Bea said. "I'll look over it with you and we can do some research. Mae, you know the most about Demontower, what's your read on her?"
"I am totally biased and think she is totally amazing and would lez out for her in an instant," Mae replied. "So you should ask Angus about this, because he actually knows more and is a lot smarter and more level-headed than me."
Bea laughed. "Wow, that's...surprisingly honest. And correct. So I will talk to him about it." She pulled out her phone and started texting.
"Let's keep looking over this. Four sets of eyes might notice something new or overlooked," Ann said, leaning forward and rereading the email again.
"This is amazing," Mae whispered.
"Yeah, it is. Jeez. I can't believe it's really happening," Trent replied.
"We want to be careful, it might be bullshit. I mean, it seems authentic, but we need to be really, really, really sure about something like this," Bea said. "So let's brainstorm for a bit, and get Angus over here, and then we'll see what happens."
"Sounds like a plan to me," Trent replied.