A/N: This is a letter to a friend, who knows some of her dark secrets.
Dear Michael,
How are you doing?
Sorry if I wasn't able to reply your previous message, I was busy with a lot of things. How's abroad treating you? I hope that you're doing fine.
I'm actually writing a story now, but I feel a little conflicted, because I am afraid to write the truth. Or perhaps I am afraid to admit it to myself, but I'll do my best. I'll be writing things about my life, and some will be very dark. I needed to do this to cope.
You might be wondering why I am telling you this. Well, first and foremost, you're the only one who knows my real identity behind my penname. Second, like what you told me before, you wouldn't judge me. I'll send you the my story link soon.
Thanks and Best Regards,
Nancy
Nancy hit the 'send' button, and closed her laptop to finish her writing on her notebook. It was 12:25 am, and she didn't want to go to work tomorrow. In fact, she'd rather write, instead of facing that long winded boss, who talks like a broken record. Sure, her boss was kind, and patient. Also, she was one of the best boss she had. But Nancy did have her boundaries too. She didn't want to hear her repeatedly complain about editors, and her other assistants, or talk about people she didn't like. Nancy was no therapist. If only she had the courage, she'd tell her boss straight, to 'shut the fuck up'.
She then scrolled down to her social media account, and browsed through pictures, only to find her crush's handsome smile amongst them. Smiling to herself, she then took her notebook and began to write the first chapter.
YOU ARE READING
He's So Beautiful, It Hurts... (A Collection Of Nancy's Imagination)
ChickLitNancy is a woman, who works as a writer's assistant, suffering from mild depression, an overweight body, and a number of insecurities, rooting from her not so happy childhood. Everyday, she endures dealing with her long winded writer, putting on a f...
