"Dumb it down." Lin says, closing the tab. The paper is online as well as in print and my article is still up. "You don't write the same as you speak."
"I don't think like my writing which I find strange.
"You're words in your thoughts are less than nine letters on average?" I roll my eyes, taking another sip of my now not burning hot coffee. Everyone is in costume and almost ready for the show. "It was very good though."
"Thank you. There was so much ti write about, I couldn't chose what. The editor told me to cut almost half of it."
"Well, it's a two and a half hour show." Anthony comments, walking around me and to the stairs.
"That's the part that she cut."
"I wanna read it later." He says before disappearing.
"She cut the actual musical part of it."
"Well, every article is that. I personally like the ones that explore the actors and everything behind the scenes so I tried to write it and apparently she shares that view with me and cut the part that people normally read.
"Well, you got a new angle. I'm surprised that you don't wanna be a writer."
"I wanna write a book but it wouldn't be a job."
"On what?"
"Whatever makes me wanna write."
"Write me a story during the show?"
"Okay. Any particular topic?"
"You."
"Me?"
"Yeah."
"There's nothing interesting about me." He starts laughing, slapping his thigh instead of his knee because he's standing.
"Yeah, okay. I can't wait to read it." He says before walking off. I roll my eyes and grab a piece of paper from a pile.
"If it's good enough, you'll get to see the show." He says, peaking around the corner and then leaving again. I'm being bribed to tell my life. I'll just make it short and leave out the worst. Or the details. But he'll either pity or dump me after reading it. He's bound to find out. Maybe no one else will ever read it. And even if it's pity, I could see the show.
-
Lins POV
"Where is she?" I ask Pippa, walking inti the greenroom.
"Home, I'm assuming. She wasn't here at the end of the show but I think she wrote this." She says, handing me a letter.
"Oh. She wrote it! I knew bribing her would work." I say, sitting down between Jazzy and Carleigh. Daveed and Anthony are across the table and Pippa is getting water. I explained what I asked during intermission so they understand why I'm glad that she wrote something.
December is a terrible month to be left on the steps of an apartment in the second biggest city in all of the world. I would assume that my mother was smart enough to know that but my incessant screaming was insufferable and I was far too much of a nuisance for her to bother with any longer. This was not just any old apartment. It was the one that my father shared with his fiancé of two months. Although I came close to death that night, I survived and lived there until both of them died and I went into foster care for the rest of middle school. In ninth grade I moved in with my older brother who gave me up and now I'm in foster care.
"Wow. That was vague." I say, grabbing my phone and finding her name. I stand up as I press the call button. It rings twice before she picks up.
"Hey. So you're story. How long did it take?"
"A while, actually."
