𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚂𝚊𝚍𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜

Chapter-20

I gathered boxes off the shelf, Katsumi helped me and we loaded them into my car. I couldn't stop apologising as we walked out of the place, this was so embarrassing!

"It's alright!" Katsumi stopped me from rambling another sorry. "Who are they from?"

"It's... a complicated story we don't want to get into." I sighed.

"Is it a good one?" She looked at me.

"What?"

"Think about it, this story could possibly be the best show or movie you've ever written."

At that moment, I knew that deciding to have Katsumi as an agent was the best decision I'd ever made. She was creative but she also had the intelligent of a shrewd businesswoman.

"Why just ten percent? If this goes great I'm going to give you like a thirty or forty percent commission!" I beamed.

"I don't understand you eccentric children." She shook her head. "How is the screenplay coming along?"

"Truth be told, I was actually coming here to apologise. I was blank. Like, I had so many characters but no plot line."

"And now?"

"I'm about to turn my failed romance into the best teen coming of age movie this world has ever seen." I said.

"Take as long as it takes, I don't care if no producer buys it but I want to read this!" She took my hands in hers.

"And you will!" I gave them a squeeze.

I thanked her and got into my car, I had to first get home and look for that piece of paper. I was certain I hadn't thrown it away, but at the same time I didn't want to hold onto it like it was a prized possession.

I couldn't be bothered about getting the presents out of the boot of my car. They were all going to be sent back to the sender's address anyway. I rummaged through the drawers in my desk, the junk drawer, the night stand but it was nowhere to be found.

Why did I feel a little sad? I gathered my thoughts and decided to think about what I was wearing that day, chances were it was still in my purse from that evening. And the guess was right, I dialled in the numbers and heard the rings.

Why was I getting so nervous? I could feel my heart beat so fast it felt like it was going to explode. Why was I doing this? What was I even going to say to him!? Just when I thought ending the call would be a good idea, I heard a click.

"Hello?" A hoarse voice responded.

Oh shit. This was very real. I suddenly felt like no words could escape my lips.

"Who is this?" He asked again.

"Why are you like this? Why did you send so many presents to my agent's office!?" I blurted.

I heard him laugh, he found this very funny for some reason. "My morning couldn't have a better start." He sounded cheerful.

"I'm sending them all back-"

"It's going to cost you a lot. Please just keep them."

"I can't possibility accept boxes. Literal boxes of presents from you."

"Yes you can. I have your attention and your number, you can definitely keep the presents." He said cheekily.

"And I can still block yours." I shot back.

"Why call me then?"

He had put me in the spot now. What was the real purpose of calling him? Gosh he's stubborn. I ended the call, without even saying goodbye. It felt so rude but right to do.

Now that I knew I wasn't going to be able to return these back to him, I might as well open them and have a look at what was in the neatly wrapped presents.

I picked up the smallest box, I realised each one of them had a card with a little thought he had behind choosing to give the present to me.

So that you can write me a story one day.

I unwrapped the little box, it was a pen with my name engraved on it. I can't believe how quickly my heart melted. It wasn't something extravagant or expensive but it felt so special.

It felt like Christmas, I went on opening box after box to find something so earnest I was a puddle by the end of this haul. He had gifted me enough stationery to start my own store, I looked around me trying to figure out where I was going to store all of this. I noticed a present I had forgotten to open in the excitement of seeing all the new notebooks and novels.

Since you still have my shirt, I think you'd like this too :)

Oh gosh. I swear to God if it was a sock or something like that I was going to flip. I will burn all the pretty books and journals he sent me. I carefully opened the box, prepared for the worst.

Inside, I found a neatly folded hoodie. I took it out of the box and caught a scent of it. That was his cologne, this was his. I was holding his hoodie. He wore this. And now I had it. In my hands.

OH MY GOD MY HEART. Who could I possibly tell about how I was feeling right now? I felt like squealing and dramatically collapse on my bed like a Victorian era woman. Why did he have to be this adorable? And why couldn't things just be fine?

I couldn't do anything about this right now, and I certainly didn't have the courage to tell him that he was the most charming person I had ever come across.

What I could do is channel these emotions into writing, so I switched on my laptop, got my cup of tea ready and sat down to start typing away. If I was going to base the plot around my years in Monaco, I was certainly going to have to change the identities of everyone that was involved.

And this was my favourite part of the whole process- the characters! Deciding their names, what they looked like, how they behaved and what they believed in. Referencing my little notebook of peculiar people I came across, I managed to get a good section of my cast for the story ready.

I didn't realise how much time I had spent until my mother called to ask if I had eaten yet. Like every parent ever, she yelled at me for nearly forgetting to eat. She also tried to get my dad onboard but he couldn't be bothered.

"What were you up to?" He asked.

"I was writing."

"So you were working hard?"

"Yes."

"Oh. Work is important but so are your meals. Don't forget to eat, okay?"

"Yes dad, I won't forget to eat." I smiled.

"And take care of yourself." He ended the call.

He was very strange. For some reason, he could never directly tell me that he cared about me and loved me. Instead he gave me small pep talks or random check ins about how I was doing, honestly, this meant more to me. I got back to my characters, I had to turn my dad into someone in this universe I was writing.