Categories > Original > Drama > Lola
My neck hurt, waking up at my cramped desk.
It was covered with paper, pens, and other random office supplies.
It had been awhile since I had last written something and submitted it.
Ethan wasn't much of a help, always saying that I had to give to the masses what they wanted.
I was sick of giving people what they wanted from me, that completely ruins the whole purpose and concept of writing. It's like trying to cum on command.
I had missed a phone call, most likely Ethan or Echo, one of my companions who wanted to see how I was holding up with Hunter being dead.
But it turned out to be my mother.
"Hey Tyler! This is your mother calling! I just wanted to check on you, make sure you were doing okay. I got your phone call last week, and you sounded really tense and uptight. It made me a little nervous and...scar- concerned. I heard about Hunter, and I'm sorry. I know you plan on going to the funeral, and if you need support, and can't find anyone else...I guess I'll go with you. But you know how I hate funerals...ever since your father and all. Well...I'm sure you can ask Gwen, you remember Marg's little niece? You two should get together sometime right? Well, I'm done rambling, love you. Bye!"
Gwen, don't think so. She's barely 19 and her mind needs to catch up with the rest of her. My mother and Gwen's Aunt Marg were close friends, always trying to match me up with someone.
None sufficed, and none shared the same interests as me.
None liked to write, let alone read, and they always tried to get me to change my interests to cater them. Fuck that honestly, you either like me for who I am as is, or get the hell out.
If only someone could write like my mystery writer!
Oh right, I had worked on them last night, almost getting the blood stain cleared off.
I had to use warm water to thin out the blood stain, and gently scratch away with an X-acto knife.
I had fallen asleep at my desk before I could inspect my work.
Looking at it now in the light of my desk lamp, I could make out "LO-A --LOE".
"Loa Loe?" I thought out loud.
Were they Asian? Was it a male or female?
I had to know! I had to find out if they had more to read and if they were even still alive!
I concluded that they couldn't have been young, because no one young could write such compelling work. But I soon rationalized that away, age was not a factor.
I became excited like a frat boy visiting an all girl catholic college locker room, I leapt for my phone, eager to call Ethan and ask him to open up Hunter's old place so I could finger through his Rolodex, but halted. Knowing him, he wouldn't want to go out on a limb and help me find a complete stranger, let alone want to step foot back in that place if it weren't for Hunter's dead benefit. I retracted my outstretched hand.
Shit, I wasn't about to drive back over there and break in. I reluctantly picked up the phone and dialed in Ethan's number.
It was covered with paper, pens, and other random office supplies.
It had been awhile since I had last written something and submitted it.
Ethan wasn't much of a help, always saying that I had to give to the masses what they wanted.
I was sick of giving people what they wanted from me, that completely ruins the whole purpose and concept of writing. It's like trying to cum on command.
I had missed a phone call, most likely Ethan or Echo, one of my companions who wanted to see how I was holding up with Hunter being dead.
But it turned out to be my mother.
"Hey Tyler! This is your mother calling! I just wanted to check on you, make sure you were doing okay. I got your phone call last week, and you sounded really tense and uptight. It made me a little nervous and...scar- concerned. I heard about Hunter, and I'm sorry. I know you plan on going to the funeral, and if you need support, and can't find anyone else...I guess I'll go with you. But you know how I hate funerals...ever since your father and all. Well...I'm sure you can ask Gwen, you remember Marg's little niece? You two should get together sometime right? Well, I'm done rambling, love you. Bye!"
Gwen, don't think so. She's barely 19 and her mind needs to catch up with the rest of her. My mother and Gwen's Aunt Marg were close friends, always trying to match me up with someone.
None sufficed, and none shared the same interests as me.
None liked to write, let alone read, and they always tried to get me to change my interests to cater them. Fuck that honestly, you either like me for who I am as is, or get the hell out.
If only someone could write like my mystery writer!
Oh right, I had worked on them last night, almost getting the blood stain cleared off.
I had to use warm water to thin out the blood stain, and gently scratch away with an X-acto knife.
I had fallen asleep at my desk before I could inspect my work.
Looking at it now in the light of my desk lamp, I could make out "LO-A --LOE".
"Loa Loe?" I thought out loud.
Were they Asian? Was it a male or female?
I had to know! I had to find out if they had more to read and if they were even still alive!
I concluded that they couldn't have been young, because no one young could write such compelling work. But I soon rationalized that away, age was not a factor.
I became excited like a frat boy visiting an all girl catholic college locker room, I leapt for my phone, eager to call Ethan and ask him to open up Hunter's old place so I could finger through his Rolodex, but halted. Knowing him, he wouldn't want to go out on a limb and help me find a complete stranger, let alone want to step foot back in that place if it weren't for Hunter's dead benefit. I retracted my outstretched hand.
Shit, I wasn't about to drive back over there and break in. I reluctantly picked up the phone and dialed in Ethan's number.
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