IF YOU KNEW WHAT GOES ON IN MY MIND

Terrence: "Star Track Minds"

"But really. Just get another shelf, man."
   I'm sitting on the chipped stools in the mailroom. Frank sits directly across from me. We're in an argument about my shelves.
    "And shelve illegal books out in the open? Please," I whisper, even though no one else is here.
   I'm supposed to manage memories and files in the mailroom. But behind my shelves, there's a safe.
That's where I keep the illegal books. Books about the Star Track being the cause for stress. Books about how important other Tracks are.
   I should probably explain these tracks. Each one does a different thing, although the Star Track seems to control everything. The Unspoken Track is, well, unspoken. They do a lot of quiet background thinking that usually gets overlooked. No one listens to them, they have a really small office on the edge of town. It's been that way in The Brain since Clover (our human) was born.
   Then there's the Music Track. It runs constantly, playing riffs and chords and full songs. Messing around with lyrics. It plays music in the mind. Even when Clover doesn't notice, it's playing.
   Then comes the Memory Track, playing memories through the mind. It sends embarrassing memories to the Star Track, and they play it in Clover's head so she can stress about it.
   Speaking of the Star Track, let's talk about them. They're the Head Honchos. The top-tier tough guys. The best Mind Workers work there. Worrying. Overthinking. All those things that make life difficult.
   Anyway, back to the mailroom. Frank yawns loudly. Frank is my brother, and basically my assistant. He helps me organize stuff. The difference between us is that I live in the mailroom, and Frank has a tiny little alcove in The Brain where he lives.
  "I should head home. See ya tomorrow, Terrence."
   I watch as he slides off the stool and trudges toward the door. At least I can go to sleep now. Before I can grab the "Closed" sign, the door suddenly opens. In walks Preston.
Quickly, I smooth down my hair and check my breath. Why now? Why does he have to walk in when I'm a complete mess?
"Er- sorry, are you closed?" he utters, stammering a bit. He looks a bit nervous. How does he still look amazing when he's exhausted? Okay, focus. Are we closed... no, not yet. Well, sort of. But anyway.
"No. Not yet. You've still got a little time. Need any help?" I say quickly.
"Well, I need a book. It's "Star Track Minds".
I nod slightly and open up my illegal safe
   Even though Preston works in Star Track, he checks out banned books. It's always boggled me, because Mind Workers are supposed to be loyal to their track. But Preston is different. That's why I like him.
   "Star Track Minds" is not a book. It's a code. All the illegal books have different "code names". The real book is called "Takeover: What the Star Track Really Does", and it's by me. He's never checked out one I wrote. I want to see what he thinks.
   I take the book off the shelf and give it to him. His hands brush mine. Crap, crap. Stay calm, Terrence. Deep breath.
   "Thanks," Preston mumbles. And then he is gone.

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why did this take so long-