A/N: And here is chapter 2! If you've been with me for a while here, you might recognize a familiar character in this chapter with a name change. :)
2. Meadow
"Shit. Shit. Shit. Shitshitshit." I muttered under my breath as I ran down the hallway of Orchard Hall. The sound of my red Converses slapping the marble flooring under my feet echoed off the walls, mixing with the droning voices of professors giving lectures in the lecture halls. I checked my watch again, checking to see if there was any chance I had been mistaken and that I was in fact not late for my Advanced Literature class. I groaned when I realized it wasn't something I had imagined, picking up my pace. I was a damn idiot for staying up late last night to finish writing. It caused me to sleep right through my alarm and missing the beginning of my hardest class.
I rounded the corner of the hallway and my eyes fell on the door of my lecture hall at the end. I stopped running, slowing down to a jog as I approached the door. I prayed with every fiber in my being that Professor Alfred was late today and she hadn't had the chance to lock the door. It was the first rule she had written on the board the very first day of the semester. I could still hear her voice as her hawk-like eyes scanned the classroom, letting us know that her door locks precisely at 8 am with no exception for those who wanted to waste her time. I grabbed the doorknob and turned it. It didn't move though, a clear sign that she had been on time like every other class and had locked the door as promised.
"Fuck." I hissed, closing my eyes and resting my forehead on the wall next to the door frame. Opening my eyes, I looked down at my feet. I noticed that there was a crack under the door, and a light coming out of the room. I stood up straight again, taking a few steps back. If I couldn't make it in the room myself, I'd find another way to hear the lecture.
Sliding my backpack off, I reached inside and grabbed my laptop. I sat on the floor next to the door, out of the way of anyone who might walk up the hall. I opened my laptop and logged onto the wifi the college provides. It loaded, connecting to their home page. I pulled my phone from my pocket and made a video call through Skype to myself. It caused my computer to chirp for a moment before I answered it. I saw myself on the screen twice, both from different angles and from two different devices. Carefully, I muted myself so no noises would come from the phone before I slid it under the door to the left.
"..it can be argued that Shakespeare was more a common man than he was that of a literary genius, a taboo subject in the world of English." Professor Alfred's voice said through my computer as the camera stared up at the lecture hall's ceiling. I smiled, elated at how well it worked as I opened up my notes on my computer. She continued on with her lecture, talking about the way it changed throughout the course of the last century in comparison to what it was when print first became a desired medium in the world. I took notes as I listened, straining to hear at some points when she'd walk to the other side of the room I assumed.
This was my senior year at New York University. To say that I was a well-educated and seasoned student at this point would probably be a bold-faced lie. I'm more of a permanent resident on the Struggle Bus, a frequent provider of transportation in my life. Being this far through with my Bachelor's degree in English was something I was proud of but was causing me to wonder if I was heading in the right direction most days. I did my best to push those worries out of my head each morning when I woke up. The goal was to become an English teacher, something my parents and I had talked about for probably the last four years of my life. I was getting close to the finish line now, the light appearing at the end of the tunnel. I only had about another three months to go. I was ready for it to be over.
"For our next class, I want you all to write something that is inspired by something you enjoy. It could be a poem, a book, something that is available in the media. Write something that gives you passion!" Professor Alfred said about forty minutes later. I could hear movement as my classmates began to pack up their things. Quickly, I closed up my laptop and slid it back into my bag. I reached under the door to grab my phone but was filled with dread as I realized my hand was too big to reach it. I stretched my fingers out, hoping to just graze it with them but it was no use. Laying on the floor, I looked through the crack and saw a pair of black high heels on the other side of the door. They walked away, my phone nowhere to be found. I groaned, knowing that it was making its way back to the front of the room.
I shot up off the floor as my classmates' feet started heading my way. I slid my bag onto my back as the door opened and people filed out. A lot of them looked tired, the heavy class being too early for most people. I felt my heart race as I held the door open for everyone, waiting for them to clear out before taking a step inside the lecture hall. I spotted Professor Alfred at the front of her class, sorting through papers on her desk. She had long brown hair that was to her shoulders, thin wired glasses that rested on her face, and amber brown eyes that looked over the paper in front of her face.
"Miss Townsend, I have to give you some credit." She said, not bothering to look up from what she was reading. "It's the first time I've had a student try so desperately to attend one of my lectures that they went to this kind of measure." I swallowed hard, slowly walking down the steps towards the front of the room. She looked up then, giving me an expectant expression. "I'm going to assume you have a justified excuse as to why you missed my class this morning."
"I technically didn't?" I replied, giving a fearful smile. I saw one flicker at the edge of her lips as she shook her head. "I apologize, Professor. I was up late working on something and lost track of time. I accidentally overslept."
"What were you working on?" She asked, crossing her arms and sitting on the edge of the desk.
"Just some projects I've had building up." I lied, fidgeting with my fingers. She narrowed her eyes, gazing at me.
"Meadow, passion is something to not be ashamed of. I am going to imagine that you weren't working on a homework assignment. Instead, I have a suspicion you have been working on whatever it is you feverishly write about in class." I felt an instant blush fill my cheeks as I moved to quickly lie. "Don't bother. I've been doing this for a very long time. I've also been writing for a very long time. I can recognize the look of someone who is writing something they are passionate about versus notes in my class. What is it that you are working on?"
"It's nothing, really. Just a silly thing for some of my friends to read." I suddenly felt like the lamest person on the planet standing in front of her.
"I would like to think that something you work so hard on wouldn't be silly." She pushed herself up off the desk and walked over so that she was standing in front of me. "I have heard from one of your friends that you are a talented writer. Never be ashamed of where you first start out when it comes to that. Passion and talent take on many different forms. Even if it starts out as something you do for your friends or even just for yourself." She turned, heading back to her desk. Reaching into the top drawer, she pulled out my phone. She walked back over to me and held it out to me. I went to take it but she held it out of my reach. "I will give this back to you on two conditions; you start making it to class on time."
"Okay."
"And you bring in whatever you're writing for our assignment." Heat flushed across my face.
"W-what?" I asked.
"I know you heard me. I want you to bring in this project you are working on. If it's important enough to make you miss my class, it's good enough to bring in as a part of your next assignment." She set my phone in my palm before walking towards the desk again. She grabbed her bag and strung it over her shoulder. She paused in front of me on her way towards the door. "If writing is your passion, you must learn to defend your work. It's a tough lesson to learn but one I will be certain you walk out of here with. I'll see you next week." She walked towards the door. With her hand on the handle, she looked over her shoulder at me. "Try your best to not be late this time."
"Okay." I nodded, watching her walk out of the classroom. I groaned, dropping my hands to my side. I'd rather show up to class in my underwear than have her read what I've been working on. I turned and slowly made my way to the door again, dragging my feet. I made my way to the hallway, heading in the direction of my next class as I thought about what I was going to have to do. I'd have to write something completely different by next week that wouldn't be as embarrassing as what I had written. I highly doubted that my English professor who studied at some of the biggest schools in the country would enjoy reading my fanfiction.
Fanfiction is something I've done since I was a preteen and not many people actually know what it is. It's taking a story of something that already exists like a TV show or book and writing a story about it. Some people use it as a way to expand on the story or continue it, especially if a show is canceled before it can finish. Some people use it as a way to change the outcome of the original story to better fit what they wanted to happen. For me, I love exploring the world of what if. I like to take the characters and put them in situations, doing my best to figure out a way for them to get through it or solve it. It's a challenge to me to see how the characters will handle it and how to make it an ending that people will enjoy reading. Writing has always been something I love to do. I knew it was going to be some kind of career for me. However, creative writing rarely pays the bills and my parents told me it would be better to take that love of writing and reading and put it into good use with an English degree.
"Meadow!" A voice called behind me as I walked. Turning on my heel, I peered over my shoulder and saw that my roommate, Angel Sanchez, was running towards me up the hall. Her beautiful long black hair was curled and bounced behind her as she ran, her blemish-free olive complexion seemed to shimmer under the fluorescence lighting. It was one of the things that amazed me about her. She could look drop-dead gorgeous in a potato sack. She was one of the first friends I made here in New York City when I moved here for school. Three years later, we lived together in a small apartment just off campus. Angel is an education major as well, her focus being on science instead.
"Hey," I said as she caught up to me. "What's up?"
"I just got out of chem and thought I saw you walking up the hall. Did you make it in time for class?"
"Nope," I said, popping the P in the word. "She let me have it though."
"I'm sure. I figured since you were still sleeping when I left that you might miss class."
"Ugh. I wish you would have kicked me awake or something." I groaned, frowning.
"Sorry. I didn't know if Jared was in your room or not. I try to not walk in on that kinda thing." She replied as we continued to walk again towards my next class. The Jared she was referring to was my boyfriend of almost five years. We started dating my senior year of high school, back in our hometown of Little Falls, New York. He was a junior so he stayed behind while I headed here to the city. When he graduated, he made the move here as well. He attends Hudson University for a degree in business and lives on campus.
"No. He had to work late so he went back to his dorm. He'll be over tonight though once I'm off work if you want to have dinner with us."
"Maybe. What time are you off work?"
"Around 10. I told him if you're okay with it, he could swing by whenever he wants after his late class is over."
"Sure! I'll just be working on a paper anyway." She smiled. "Cheer up, Meadow. Things will get better. Only a few more months left of school."
"I know," I said, forcing a smile. As we approached the classroom where my next class was, I saw a familiar face sitting outside of the door. Darci Halloway looked up from the sketchbook that was in her lap, giving me a smile. I saw it darken a bit when she saw Angel but she hid it as she climbed to her feet. "Hey, Darc." I said as we stopped next to her.
"Hey." She replied, closing her pad. Darci was dressed to match her hair today which was a light brown on top with streaks of bright purple running through it and on the ends of it. She wore a black leather jacket over a black tank top with some kind of artistic design on it, and a pair of black leggings to complete the outfit.
"I should get going to class," Angel said, giving Darci a side glance at her outfit. Darci cocked an eyebrow and forced a big smile to her face.
"Have a good one!" She said in a sarcastic tone. Angel rolled her eyes and turned to me.
"I'll see you at home tonight." She said before walking off towards the other part of the building. I looked back at Darci who was making faces at Angel. She stopped when she caught me looking.
"I wish you two would get along better." I sighed.
"I wish she didn't walk around like her shit didn't stink." She replied, shrugging her shoulders. "Neither one of those things is bound to happen." She grinned at me, pulling her bag higher up on her shoulder. I scoffed, returning her smile as I shook my head. Darci was another friend I made shortly after coming to the city. Unlike me, she came from a big city already as she relocated from the Dallas, Texas area to here. When I asked her why, she said that she really wasn't accepted well in the redneck area she was from and New York allowed her to be the person she felt like being. In all reality, Darci and I are better friends than Angel and I. However, Darci already had her dorm and tuition paid for when it came for me to find a place to live. Angel was also looking so we decided to become roommates to better our chances of affording the shoebox we live in. Darci and Angel aren't exactly best friends. Angel thinks that Darci can be a bit over the top and extra. Darci thinks Angel is a two-faced snob. At least they are on the same page about disliking each other. I'm not even sure what started this little thing between the two of them. Darci said it had something to do with a boy she liked but she would never tell me the whole story.
"What are you working on?" I asked, gesturing to the sketchbook in her hand as we entered our classroom.
"Just some fan art stuff. I wanted to see if there might be something I can craft up for someone to sign this weekend at the convention." She set her bag down next to her desk and plopped into the seat. I slid into mine, setting my bag on the desktop in front of me.
"I'm so excited for the con. I wish Jared would agree to dress up with us." I said, frowning. Darci laughed, opening her sketch pad again.
"I'm pretty sure that would fall under the constitution of fun. Jared doesn't have a fun bone in his body. I'm even surprised he agreed to go."
"Why wouldn't he?" I asked.
"Because you've asked him to do stuff like this since he got to the city and always says no. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy for you that he is. I just hope he doesn't ruin it for you by being a Debbie Downer."
"I know. I already gave him a free pass to leave when he needs to." I pulled my laptop from my bag and set it on the desk in front of me as more people began to file into the room for our class. "I'm worried that I'm getting my hopes up for this whole thing for it to be a letdown."
"It won't be. We're going to have a blast! Trust me." She gave my arm a reassuring squeeze. "You up for some drinks tonight? Razzy's is doing 2 for 1 drink specials for the ladies tonight."
"I can't. Jared is coming over after I get out of work for dinner. Thank you though. You're welcome to come by though."
"Nah. I need to get this drink on. I'll be there if you change your mind though."
"Thanks," I said as our professor came in, starting the lesson.
Every single muscle in my shoulders ached. I blamed it on the heavy books in the bag on my shoulders mixing with the long hours of working the college library. Though it had been a relatively easy shift, some assholes had decided to destroy the research area. That meant I had to spend an hour of my night putting reference books back on the shelves and piecing together the room before I could go home. Thankfully, my boss had been nice enough to close the library down early after that happened, allowing me to head home at 9 pm rather than 10 pm. I even was lucky to score a ride home with my boss, dropping me off out front. I was in the mood for some horrible television and carb-loaded food to help fuel me for the writing session I would need to have tonight to write something for Professor Alred next week. I groaned at the thought as I fished my keys out of my bag.
I unlocked the door to the lobby of our building, dragging my feet as I headed towards the elevator. I couldn't wait to get upstairs, kick off my shoes, and just relax for the rest of the night. The doors of the lift opened and I stepped on, rubbing my neck with my hands. I hit the fourth-floor button and watched as the doors closed again. I felt the familiar sensation of the elevator lifting up as I heard the engine crank. Closing my eyes, I imagined the hot bath I was going to take followed by the glass of wine I was going to enjoy as well. I wanted to not people for a while. I'm sure Jared would understand if he had made it here before me. I was early so he would just have to deal.
The doors of the elevator opened and I stepped out. Our building was an older red stone one, the windows the newest things in it. Each floor had five apartments, mostly filled with older residents and a couple of smaller families towards the top of the building. Each floor looked the same with long hallways painted yellow with green carpeting underfoot. There were landing too with large windows that overlooked the city and the street below. As I rounded the corner, I saw the familiar sight of our neighbor Sean Andrews perched on the window cill that outlook the pathetic excuse of a courtyard. He looked up from the comic book he was reading and smiled at me, his long hair pulled back in a ponytail on the back of his head. "Hey, Meadow."
"Hi, Sean. Locked out again?" I asked, trying to get my apartment key free of the other keys on my ring. He nodded, scratching the back of his head. Sean was a year older than me, turning 23 a couple of months ago. We met when Angel and I first moved into the building. He helped me carry up my groceries and we started talking. He's a good friend to have and he's helpful to everyone in the building. He just has a bad habit of getting locked out of his apartment since his mother won't allow him to make a copy of his keys. She works at a nearby hospital and it's always a mystery when she will be home.
"Yeah. Mom forgot that I was going out last night. Long day?" He asked. I nodded, walking over to the door of my apartment.
"The worst. I feel like I'm burning the candle at both ends for a little bit of money."
"I hear ya. If you ever want to talk about it, I'm just across the hall." He gestured in the direction of his door which was directly across the hall from ours.
"Thanks, Sean. I'd let you in but I think Angel is sleeping" I said. I was pretty sure Angel had a full day of classes and a shift after today so she was either sleeping or vegging out of the couch. Sean wasn't exactly her cup of tea either. She found him dorky and too nice. I wasn't sure how someone could be too nice but I gave him a small smile before unlocking my door.
"It's okay. I'm waiting for Mrs. Jeffries to come back with her groceries anyway so I can give her a hand. I'll catch up with you tomorrow."
"See ya." He waved before I disappeared inside. I noticed that it was dark inside the apartment. I fumbled around for the light switch next to the door. It turned on, the fluorescent bulb above my head flickering and buzzing loudly for a moment before illuminating the large area of my apartment. I set my backpack down on the floor next to the door and that's when I noticed the black combat boots next to my foot. I recognized them as Jared's, him leaving them literally anywhere his heart contended. He must have come over earlier than we had planned, something he often does when he doesn't want to hang out with his roommate/brother anymore.
Movement from the corner of my eye caused me to turn and that's when two bodies shot up from the couch. My eyes widened as I looked at the half-naked forms of my boyfriend and Angel who scrambled to find something to cover their shame. Angel's long black hair was a mess on the top of her head and Jared was sporting her favorite shade of lip gloss on his lips and neck. My brain wouldn't allow anything to function as I stared at them trying to pull their clothes back on, not saying anything. It felt like I was in a wind tunnel, a loud noise rushing past my ears. Suddenly, it stopped and I felt like exploding.
"What the absolute fuck?" I asked, finally able to form words. I couldn't be seeing this right now. There's no way that they would be doing this to me.
"Meadow, I didn't think you'd be home this early," Jared said, struggling to get his feet back in his pants. He nearly tripped, grabbing onto the cement wall behind him for support.
"So you figured you'd have time to fuck my roommate?" I exclaimed.
"It's not like that," Angel said, pulling her shirt on. "We wanted to sit down and talk to you about it tonight." She crossed her arms, giving me a look like I was the one acting out of line here.
"How long has this been going on for? Did you think I'd want to know all the details or something?" I glared at her.
"No. We wanted to tell you that we've decided to move into our own apartment." Jared said, swallowing hard. "We put the security deposit down the other day." He gave Angel a nervous look, stepping behind her.
"I'm moving out this weekend," Angel said, putting a hand on her hip. "You'll have to figure something out for the rest of the lease." Tears burned my eyes but I refused to let them shed. Not in front of them at least. "Meadow, c'mon. Don't cry. It's not that big of a deal."
"Not that big of a deal? I just caught my roommate and my boyfriend fucking on my couch!" I yelled. "So…you're moving out and stealing my boyfriend at the same time." I said, staring her down.
"We didn't mean for it to happen like this," Jared said, a hint of guilt on his features. "You gotta believe me, Meads."
"Don't call me that," I said, pointing a finger at him. "You don't get to do that anymore. You don't get to do anything to me anymore. Let me save you the trouble of waiting for me to be gone." I grabbed my bag and opened the door again. "I hope you're fucking happy with yourselves." I stormed out, slamming the door behind me. Sean looked up at me when he heard the sound, concern on his face as a tear slipped down my cheek.
"Meadow? You alright?" He asked, sliding off the window to step towards me.
"I just caught my boyfriend and my roommate sleeping together," I said, taking a deep breath. "I think I'm going to throw up."
"C'mon. Let's go for a walk."
"Let's go get a drink," I muttered, following him down the stairs and out of the building.
"No fucking way!" Darci exclaimed in an excited voice as Sean and I weaved our way through the small crowd inside Razzy's Bar. It was more of a unique hole-in-the-wall place that was all comic book and superhero-themed. Large framed posters of different Marvel and DC heroes hung on the walls with neon lighting for the beers they served. She was off to the side of the room, holding our usual spot down at the end of the bar. "I didn't think you were coming out tonight!" She called over the music as I slid into the bar stool next to her.
"There's been a change of plans," I replied, still feeling the tears burning behind my eyes. Sean slid into the seat next to me, pulling his jacket off as I waved down the bartender. I signaled her to bring three shots of whatever over. She nodded, pouring clear liquid into three shot glasses before walking them over.
"Well, I'm always game for free booze," Darci said, leaning forward. Before she could reach the shot glasses, I grabbed two of them and shot them back, chasing them down with the third one. The mystery liquid was identified as vodka, it stinging and burning my throat as I swallowed. "Or…not." I set the glasses back on the bar.
"God, I hate him." I sobbed, burying my face into my arms as I laid them on the bar. Sobs wracked my entire body as I tried to erase the image of Jared and Angel together that was burned into my memory.
"Who?" Darci asked as Sean rubbed my back.
"She caught Jared and Angel in bed together." He explained in a softer tone.
"The fuck! Where are they? I'll make sure he won't be able to use that wimp dick of his anymore for any skank." Darci shifted to slide off the bar stool but I sat up, shaking my head.
"There's no point. They are packing up her stuff now so they can move in together. It's been going on for months. They just didn't know how to tell me before today. Now, I'm roommateless and single." I cried again, tears streaming down my face.
"Meadow, you deserve so much better than that creep!" Darci said, grabbing my shoulders. "You are young, smart, beautiful, and have your whole life ahead of you. You need someone who gets you for you and loves seeing you excited about the things you love. Jared was never going to be that guy for you."
"But he could have at least pretended to be," I muttered, plopping my arms on the bar. "What the hell am I going to do now? I can barely afford my rent as it is. Now, I'll have to figure out how to cover the whole thing by myself."
"I'm sure you could talk to the building manager," Sean suggested. "Mr. Cragen seems like a nice enough guy."
"He's already been on our case before because of late rent."
"But if she breaks the lease, that's on her!" Darci said. "Just let him know that she's bailing before the end of it. He can take her to court for her part of the rent. At least that's what I've learned for 15 years worth of watching Judge Judy moments."
"Maybe. I'll have to talk to him tomorrow." The bartender returned with three more shots, this time each of us taking one.
"You know…there's another option you could try," Darci said, giving me a shit-eating grin. I raised an eyebrow at her, confused by what she meant. She pulled a piece of paper from her pocket and set it down in front of me. I groaned, rolling my eyes.
"There's no way I'm doing that," I said, shaking my head.
"What is it?" Sean asked, grimacing from the shot. LEaning in, he looked at the paper. "A contest?"
"It's THE contest that was literally meant for Meadow to win," Darci explained, pushing the paper towards me. I took my shot, the burn feeling not as strong this time.
"A fanfiction contest?" Sean read from the paper.
"They want authors to submit original fanfictions for the celebrities to review and judge while at the convention this weekend. The winner gets $10,000! Meadow, you could totally write anyone under the table." Darci is one of the few people in this world who reads my work that I know in person. Most of the other people who read what I write as just viewers on my favorite fanfiction sites. It was a happy little accident that Darci and I happened to realize she was a fan of mine. Now, she reads everything I write first before I post it even if I don't think it's very good.
"Darci, I already told you no. That's just setting myself up for failure." I replied, playing with the empty shot glass.
"Why would you say that?" Sean questioned.
"Because I'm not good enough. They are going to be reviewing fanfics from hundreds of people. There's no way they would pick one of mine from something like that. I'd rather not have celebrities I look up to judge something that I love doing." I motioned for another drink and this time, she brought over three beers.
"But it could totally solve your problems here. And then what's the worst thing that could happen? You don't get picked? You will have the same outcome if you don't submit something. You should just try!" Darci pleaded. "You know you would have a good chance at winning. I think that's what scares you."
"Why would that scare me?"
"It would mean that you really are good at something and people will recognize it. You wouldn't have a reason to hide in the shadows anymore if anyone knew how good you are. Well, besides me." I shot her a glare, hating how right she was.
"I'm still not doing it."
"Maybe she's right." Sean offered, shrugging his shoulder as he sipped his beer. "You should at least consider it."
"You don't even read fanfiction, remember?" I teased.
"True. I'm more of a comic guy. But, if the story is there, I've been known to enjoy a certain fic here or there." He said.
"Really?" I asked. He nodded.
"They are mostly ones that Darci sends me REPEATEDLY but I dabble at times."
"Because they are yours!" Darci exclaimed, grabbing my shoulders. "C'mon…if you can make a believer out of Sean, you can make anyone love your writing." I sighed, her eyes pleading with me worse than a dog begging for it's dinner.
"I'll think about it, okay?"
"Thatta girl! Right now, let's focus on some more shots!"