It's a cold day in the capital city of London, and, as I am typing this in my mind my hands needn't be so cold. That is, if I could ever feel the cold.
How I wish to be a human again.
I'm on my way to a press conference, celebrating my newest books (the titles I'm sure of which you are familiar with - does the Movement Series sound an intriguing title?) and there is already a crowd around me as I maneuver through the London Underground. There are pieces of paper and stationary being thrust in my face as I think.
No you absolute idiots! If I wanted to sign these things I would have already. Comprende?
Fangirls are a wonderful species. They do not often care for the human whom they 'stalk', resulting in some problems that may or may not be overcome.
I can see the building that I am supposed to be at in exactly two minutes. That is, when I exit the Underground to be met with more screaming and "oh my God you're my favourite writer!" "sign my arm!" "sign my face!".
Why couldn't all fangirls be like my close friend? She knew that others may feel uncomfortable with overcrowding and slowly being pushed into the middle of the pulsing throng.
I should've brought security.
"So!" a reporter (where did she come from?) thrusts a microphone into my face. "How long have you been writing?"
This sets a chain of events meaning more reporters join in.
"What happens to Meg and Joe?"
(Answer: they both had PTSD if that helps?)
"You never said who Tyler killed!"
(Answer: think about it.)
"How did you come up with the idea?"
(Answer: you'll find out.)
"What was your inspiration?"
(Answer: inspiring people.)
"Can we have a photo?!"
(Answer: no.)
I ignore these cries and barge past them entering the BBC studios with ease. Now, where should I be?
***
Nick Grimshaw sits in front of me, overly large headphones on the side of his (and my) head and a microphone thrust in his (and my) face. He's smiling politely, fiddling with a few buttons while a song (which in my opinion has far too many references about sex) plays to the British public.
"I'm here with the author of the Movement Series and I'm sure you all know his name! How are you?"
"I'm good."
He asks me a few other questions that have no significance to anything (e.g. How did you get published? When did you start writing? Etc). But then, a question that I have waited an awfully long time for.
"How did you come up with such a great story?"
"I'm an author of non-fiction."
"What?"
I sigh. "I have never written any fictional tales."
After silence from Grimshaw I elaborate.
"It's a true story. Everything," shocked faces surround me. "I'll go."
And I do.
Everything is true. All stories and places and things that you have dreamed and thought are real. They have to be, because they're people's lives.
They have to be real.
Because they have become so in your mind.
Author: William Henry 'Hank' Green.
YOU ARE READING
Static Movements
FanfictionNo-one managed to escape unscathed. As if they did. But John Green is still out there along with his supposed brother (Hank) and Dan Howell who's not who he says he is. Add in Doddleoddle, Evan Edinger, KickthePJ, and an above average fangirl and e...
