Intoxicated [Helena Bonham Carter X fem reader]

CH6 - YOU'RE NOT STRAIGHT, BABES

a/n: this is short on purpose, it's quite heavy i would say; plus it makes the following chapter better

tw: child neglect, overal issues in and out the queer community
[1803 words]

"David Simon, the director, asked me to contact you and arrange some kind of a meeting. Is that okay with you?"

"Y-yes, absolutely."

"Wonderful. I was told to find a date you could both agree on in aproximately two weeks," continued the man calmly. I, on the other hand, was everything but calm. My mind was now flooded with thoughts.

Some very important person found my book and wants to film it? My book? Which was originaly only for me? On top of that, I wrote it two years ago, I was freshly eighteen years old, there's no way it that well written. Also, there are milions of other books about mental illnesses, written by much more experienced and, most importantly, famous authors. I am just a random person writing for fun. There are so many people who deserve this attention and chance. So why me? It doesn't make sense.

"Miss?"

"Yes, I'm sorry, it just disconnected for a second," I lied, still in shock.

"I understand. So, which day would be the best for you?" he asked, not really interested. It was clear he did those type of calls regularly.

"Erm," I said to buy myself some time. Week organisations were never my strength. Suddenly I remembered that I don't have shifts on Thursdays. "Thursday would be the best for me."

Cool, y/n, just relax.

"So Thursday, October second it is then. I'll give mister Simon your contact informations."

"Great. Thanks."

"You're welcome. And congratulations, this is a big step for a young author like you. Goodbye."

"Thank you. Goodbye."

What the fuck just happened? I still really don't believe it

"Mac?" I called out.

"Yeah?" he answered from the kitchen.

"Can you please come here?" I was still out of my mind. I needed to tell someone.

"Sur- whoa, you look like you've just seen a ghost or something," he stated entertainedly. I looked at him with my mouth slightly opened. "Okay, now you're scaring me a little. What's happening? Has someone died? If so, please tell me it was your mother."

Lucky for him, I didn't pay much attention to actually answer him, so I just left that be.

"No, nobody has died," I said quietly, almost whispering. "My book - you know which one?" I asked. Mac slowly nodded 'yes'. "I recieved a call from the publishing house. They want to film it."

Mac's face expression changed from surprised to incredulous to totally amused. Then he chuckled.

"You are fucking with me right now," he finally said firmly.

"No, Mac, I most definitely am not. Why would I even joke about something like that? Dude, I would never even think about that," I exclaimed in my defense. Mac luckily found this argument logical.

"Yeah, you're right. I'm sorry," he paused. "In that case, we need to celebrate. Does Harper know? That's her name, right?"

"Yes, that's her name and no, she doesn't. I just ended the call. I'll tell her tomorrow."

"Uuu, that means I'm very priviledged," said Mac boastfully and danced himself back to the kitchen. "I'll make you something good. Muffins! What do you think?" he shouted from distance. I had to smile. I trully thought sometimes I didn't deserve him.