Young Writers Society

Fuck. Fuck.

I marched out of my cabin and strode across the deck. My crew did a poor job of hiding their glances between me and the doorway I'd just left, where no doubt Tallulah leaned against the frame in that way she did when she wanted me to look back at her. I made it all the way to the gangplank before the urge to glance back won over. She was still flushed, a giddy grin dancing on her lips, her silk robe hanging hardly closed over her shimmering scales.

I ducked my head as my vision went hazy, and I hurried down to the street dock. She was going to be the fucking death of me. I was going to savor every goddamn second.

I had things to do today. Things that were probably important. The docks were only a block or two from the shopping district, and where there were shops there was coffee. Whatever business thing I was going to do - supplies? Maybe I was supposed to get supplies. - that could wait. I had to get Tallulah's...Tallulah, off my mind before I could do anything important anyway.

The first coffee shop I saw, I pushed my way through the doors and walked right up to the counter. There wasn't a single soul in sight aside from the barista.

"Give me whatever the fuck you usually drink," I said to them. I didn't want to bother with the menu. My mind was still behind that glorious fucking door.



This day was of the utmost importance. It was pivotal, life or death, that every detail fall perfectly into its place, and it was my sacred and near-holy responsibility to make that happen.

I was the lynchpin, director and lead, of the production that would stun and permanently touch the audience tonight on this, tonight, the opening night of the debut run of this all new musical about love and life and society which I had worked so hard, so tirelessly to make a reality. And it was finally here! So many sleepless nights behind me, so many stressful days and quick decisions. Night after night of workshopping and rewriting and casting and rehearsing and rehearsing and rehearsing, all leading up to tonight.

I breathed in deep and held it. The set was before me as I stood in the front row, my eyes transfixed by my work. I exhaled slowly. My hands still ached from my early morning repainting a section of the set which had been ruined late the night before. I'd come early to fix it, for I could not come the very second I was messaged about it.

Last night had been dedicated to my love, my life, my beautiful Ollie. I'd taken him out for a lovely dinner at one of his favorite restaurants, romanced him well into the night, and taken him home to finish the evening with a few glasses of wine and a shower of compliments for the very light of my life. I had not even thought to look at my phone until I was just about to lay down to bed with him, and I could not very well abandon my fiance-to-be for something I could get done in the morning with only a few fewer hours of sleep!

My cheeks tinged with red at the thought of the ring. It was a glamorous thing, attention-grabbing and diamond-studded, with three bands twisted into a lovely formation and various sized stones to create an utterly unique and beautiful design, perfect for my king, my love, the core of my very life and future.

Tonight, I was going to ask. Tonight, at final bows I would drop to one knee and ask the most beautiful man I'd ever had the pleasure and delight to know to spend the rest of his life with me.

But first, I had to make this show perfect.

I turned on my heel and hurried backstage to gather my cast and crew. We would do one more run before the show tonight.

The walk to work had been rather uneventful. Connery had left early, needing to practice before the performance tonight. Usually, he walked alongside me until the turn that parted us. I took out the keys from my bag, unlocking the coffee shop and entering to set up before the day's customers. A glance at the clock showed it was 7:06. A little over 30 minutes past the shop's opening time. However, it didn't look like any customers were there, so did it really matter? Slipping back into the kitchen that opened at 8 I write on the time change board.

Clock in at 6:15. Reason: Forgot to clock in.

No one will know.

It proves to be a slow day, only serving a handful of customers I've begun to recognize as regulars. Until around noon, a vampiric lady with cartoony, unnaturally red hair pulled into a short ponytail storms in, and asks for coffee in a rather incandescent manner. I make her a cappuccino, since she asked for what I typically drink.

"Would you like a pastry with that?" I call to her while I make her drink.





The gate latched behind me as i entered the yard. Several dogs pounded their way over to where i stood running around me and jumping on my legs. Louis, a large lab, nearly toppled me over. I managed to make it inside the building only after throwing a frisbee for them to chase.

"Hello there Noah," my manager, Sara, said. She was sitting at her desk, glasses on her nose as she filled out some paperwork. A small child, maybe 8 or 9, sat beside her, kicking her legs at the wooden desk. "This is my niece, Mary. She's going to be hanging out with you today if that's alright?"

My heart falls. I'm exhausted from the night before. Would rejecting lose me my job?

"I'll pay you time and a half for today. It's just this once."

"alright, Sara. Ill do it."

"Just the coffee."

I skimmed over the menu. I wasn't sure this shop had existed when I lived in the city, not that I would have known about the eye-wateringly boring hole-in-the-wall anyway. I was too busy fucking around with a traitorous little bitch.

I ran my tongue over the back of my fangs. I was seventeen then. I'd be twenty.

I shook my head. It didn't fucking matter now, did it? That bastard didn't deserve to have me think about it anyway, especially not now.



I adjusted my cape in the mirror while my castmates hurried into their costumes behind me. I was ahead of them, as always setting the perfect example. They were all endlessly grateful for my impeccable leadership, of course, and the rival theatre on the other side of town reeked of jealousy.

Everyone yearned to see my shows, yet there was still one rightful member of the audience who rarely got the chance.

My mother's condition had been slowing worsening over the years, but over the last month or so she seemed to be improving. She had even been able walk a few steps the other day, with the help of a walker and her live-in nurse.

For that reason, she would be attending the performance tonight. I had a seat reserved for her and her nurse in the front row to witness the show and my proposal to the love of my life.

I smiled into the mirror. Tonight was going to be perfect.