Young Writers Society

Quick declaimer, this is inspired by 'Have a Seat Misery', a song by Shayfer James. Go listen to it if you have the time, it's a really good song! 

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It's the dead of night, James is sitting at his desk, looking over some papers. A storm is raging outside, but the sound of the rain isn't an unwelcome one. It's been a while since it's rained and James was starting to forget what it sounded like, bouncing off the roof, hitting the window panes, it's a nice sound.

There’s a flash of lightning quickly followed by a loud burst of thunder, and James jumps out of his seat. He laughs at himself for being so easily startled, before shaking his head and going back to the papers on his desk.

He has no idea how much time has passed, but he's once again disturbed from his work. But this time the noise isn't thunder, but instead a knock on the front door. James mumbles to himself as he gets up from the desk and walks out into the hall.

James begrudgingly opens the door to reveal a man. He is poorly dressed for the weather, wearing what seems to be a wool jacket which is completely soaked through. "Who are you?" James asks, not trying to mask his annoyance at being disturbed this late at night. The man looks up and to both of their surprise, James recognizes him.

"Oh, friend, it's been too long." He says, opening the door wider. "Come in, come in." The man looks conflicted, but ultimately decides it's best to get out of the rain. Walking through the doorway, and past James.

"Now, that is quite a storm." James remarks, bolting the door shut. He turns to the man and starts leading the way down the hall. “Here, let me take that from you.” Though the man seems a bit reluctant he doesn't protest when James helps him with his jacket. 

"You are an unexpected guest, but not an unwelcome one. Do not even worry, my friend. Now, let me be a reasonable host and offer you some dry clothes." He says, looking at the man who doesn’t say anything in return.

They continue walking down a few hallways until they reach a room, and James leads the man inside. "Let me draw you a bath, we don't want you getting sick now do we." His words seem kind enough, but the man feels uneasy. Despite that, he lets James draw a bath and fetch him some dry clothes.

~ ~ ~

Some time has passed, and the man walks into the study to find James sitting at his desk, not yet noticing his presence. The man clears his throat and James looks up.

"Ah, there you are. Are you feeling better? You certainly look better now that you're out of those rain drenched clothes." Again, this is said in a kind tone. A deceptively kind tone for the kind of man he knows James to be.

The man tries to disregard his unease for the moment.

Looking down at himself he has to agree with James. The clothes that he gave him are silk, and far fancier than anything he owns. It's definitely a bit much to be wearing at this hour of the night.

"Yes, thank you. But don't you think this is a bit much?" He isn't just referring to the clothes.

"Nonsense, friend. It's been far too long, of course I'm going to treat you tonight," James stands up and walks over to the man. "Lord, how I've missed you," he says in almost a whisper, and the man isn't sure if he was even meant to hear it. 

James looks at his friend and he's honestly a bit surprised that he recognized him. The years haven't been kind to him; his skin is unreasonably pale and his eyes look tired. But his hair is the same golden blond it used to be, he stature is still the same - being just a bit shorter than James is himself - and most importantly he feels the same. He is still the same man that James remembers him to be.

"Well, have a seat," James says with a smile.

The man looks around the lavishly decorated room, then goes to sit at the head of the table. James stays where he is, but watches the man as he goes.

"So," he says, his smile seems to falter a bit, "what brings you here?"

"Is that really a mystery to you, James?"

"Of course not. I was simply wondering if you would actually say it aloud," He walks closer to the table, "Not that I expect that from you." 

"Speaking it aloud would make it too real." 

"Well yes, but it is real." 

Neither of them talk for a moment, and the room would’ve been completely silent were it not for the storm raging on outside.

"I'm honestly surprised you invited me in." The man says finally.

"Oh, Misery, I'm a changed man. I wouldn't leave you out in that storm." James says this like it's a clever joke.

"I've never cared for that nickname. Misery…”

"But it suits you, does it not?" James says, looking at him with a smile. Misery holds his gaze as he continues. “Always bringing misfortune to the people around you. Is that why you travel? Moving from place to place, never staying too long in hopes of avoiding the inevitable. Or do you enjoy the misery that you cause? Enjoy the distress you bring everywhere you go?”

Misery tries to ignore that. "It's been years since we've spoken-"

"We've sent letters back and forth.” James interrupts. “Or have you already forgotten?"

"It was mostly you sending the letters, I was just unfortunate enough to receive them."

"Travelling all over the place, yet I could always find you," he says, walking around the room now. "Did you ever wonder how I did it?"

"Of course, but I also know that you won't tell me." James turns back to Misery with a smile. 

"Oh, Misery, dear, I missed this. What kept you away for so long?"

"You." He says plainly, and James can't help but laugh at this.

"Ah, well if you remember correctly, I said you could come back whenever you wished to."

"And I never wished to."

"Of course." James walks over to Misery and places a hand on the back of the chair. "You know, I am happy to say that, in a way, you never really left."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, you'll find out soon enough. No need for me to spoil your ignorance prematurely." He smiles. "Would you care for a cigarette?"

"If you wouldn't mind."

"Of course," James walks over to a nearby table and grabs a cigarette and a lighter, and he goes to hand them to Misery. "Let me light this for you. It seems like your hands are shaking," he points out.

Misery looks at his hands to see that they are, indeed, shaking. "Oh..." is all he can say. James hands him the cigarette then lights it for him.

"I still don't understand why you're being so kind to me, James." Misery says before taking a drag from the cigarette.

James lights his own, then says "Don't mistake me, Misery. You are one of my closest friends."

Misery laughs, "I've gone country to country to try to avoid speaking to you."

"And yet here you are. Funny how that works, isn't it?"

~ ~ ~

Time has passed, things have been discussed, and Misery has finally gotten fed up with James.

"You are villainous," he says, standing from his chair now and glaring at James.

"Would you have me any other way?"

Misery is unsure of how to answer that. Of all of the things James has said tonight, this is what makes Misery go speechless. They both know the answer to the question, so it doesn't need to be spoken aloud. Even so, Misery's silence is deafeningly guilty.

"Have a seat, Misery. Relax. We have all night to talk."

~ ~ ~