Chapter 4 Rap tap, tapping at my door.
Disclaimer: Mort and Shooter do not belong to me but through the mirror I can play with them with my O.C's
Mort suddenly found it hard to breathe, he felt a terror that he was about to come face to face with Shooter again. He felt frozen to the spot, it wasn't as if his being at this conference was any kind of secret, and there were crowds of people everywhere, Shooter could walk in anytime. Though he suspected Shooter preferred to torture him more, before showing his face.. all the same first the email then this, he shakily felt for the door handle sure Shooter was the other side of it. Like tearing off a plaster the only way he could do this was without leaving himself any time to think, so he flung the door open and did a double take as it was Clara standing there, he did a slight double take.
"Ok Romeo, who were you expecting, can't say I am not hurt, first not reading my email and knowing your timetable, and two, fraternizing with the groupies, ok they can read above age 5 but they are still groupies" Clara said scathingly
"What?" Mort murmured, hardly able to take in her words, when all that was registering in his brain was that Shooter was not the one in front of him. He took a gulp of air, only then realizing he had been holding his breath
"Timetable rather than the groupie" Clara repeated irritably
"What groupie?" Mort, said getting more and more confused "Err I just read the time table.. what time is it?" he asked
"Time for 'Ask the Author' section of this conferences endless fun, today is your turn" she stated
"Oh no… " he groaned, he hated being asked about his work, he felt like such a fraud, everyone wanted to know where inspiration came from and it was the one question he would love to ban, cos truth be told, the stories just appeared, like someone else whispering inside his skull, almost like they were not his stories. Maybe that was why Shooter got to him so much, that and he didn't know what that man would really do.. though he had a nagging feeling he should know, it was as if some memory was forgotten, or a dream, gone like a stone sinking in deep water, never to see the light of day again. He let out an involuntary shudder
"Its not like your going in front of a firing squad, these people like you ,remember?" Clara prompted him
"Hence the supposed groupies? " he asked, just because that's how they talked to each other, he still felt horribly distracted
" 'Supposed', don't tell me you haven't noticed them" Clara said incredulously
"I haven't" he said genuinely, "But I am not supposed to say hat right? You told me not to" he smiled a little at her, the shaky feeling lessening a little.
"I swear Mort, you miss what's right in front of your face, your so inside your own head. Good job I am used to you author types, or I might take it personal" she said taking his arm, less to do with a friendly or supportive action, but she knew that was the only way to get him to the little 'meeting the fans scenario.
Mort let himself be lead like the condemned man, he just didn't have the energy to fight it, and anyway it felt all too inevitable that this was what was going to happen however he felt. It was a growing feeling and had its roots far beyond just a meeting with some fans