Murder He Wrote [ l.s ]

Focus

A/N: Authors note at the bottom//I don't own anything//I'm broke

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Heres some advice for you new authors out there, always turn in your manuscript on time. Why, you ask? Because if you don't your bossy Publicist will bitch at you for hours.

"It was due two days ago Harry!" Zayn bellowed, his scarlet locks disheveled, his eyes beady. He looks like he hasn't sleeped at all.

"Calm down Zayn, god! You're my Publicist not my mum." He's overreacting, who cares if I'm a couple days late, I'm not hurting anyone.

"You're making me look bad, if I don't have your manuscript my Friday I'm going to lock you in your office until I do, got it?"

I fake saluted him, "Yes Sir!"

"You're a pain in the ass, you know that?" Zayn chuckled

When I look back at it, maybe it wasn't such a brilliant idea too hire my best friend as my Publicist. He is constantly on my ass about my writing, and how it makes him 'look' bad. Its not even my fault, I've been struggling with an ending for my latest book, Control, because readers are complaining about how the killer always gets away with the murder in the end.

They say its 'unjustly' unjustly? Come on! When there is a perfect murderer and they commit the perfect crime, of course there gonna get away! If he didn't the story wouldn't make sense!

Others have complained that there tired of the same old plot line, they want romance, ha ha I write thriller novels not love stories.

And I'm tired of the police, they constantly show up at my door and bombard me with questions like "Do you know L.T?" "Have you ever met him?" and my personal favorite, "Are you working for or with L.T?" Like, yeah of course I'm working with a trained predator. They find it weird and suspicious that I dedicate my novels too him.

It may sound weird but he's my inspiration. He's always clean cut with the murders, He cuts them all with perfect precision's and the only evidence left of him is his infamous L.T carving he leaves carved into every victims forehead.

He also has no direct motive. The victims all range from a variety of ages and genders, also none of them have any relations with each other. Like I said before, the perfect murderer and the perfect crime.

So maybe I find him fascinating. Can you blame me? He's like every mystery murder authors wet dream.

"If that's all you'd like to discuss Zayn, I'd greatly appreciate it if you got out of my flat because frankly I have an ending to refine."

Zayn smiled at that, "Good! I'll be checking up on you later Harry. Peace." He walked steadily out of my flat door shaking his head.

I plopped onto my leather sofa, no way in hell am I going to start that now, I need inspiration. I stretched my arm across my stand and grabbed the remote and turned on the television.

No interesting news really, just a high school fight and an electrical fire. Ugh, nothing! What is a man supposed to do with that! Fuck this.

I sighed in exasperation, I am bloody tired, and I smell like a dead fish, I haven't been out of my flat for days!

I walked ruggedly to the bathroom mirror, fucking hell, my face looks worn out, my brown hair has gone astray and is matted to its hearts content. My clothes look like shit, wrinkled and littered with stains. I need a shower, ugh.

I quickly undressed myself and stepped into the shower. The warm water caressed my body. Damn, I need this. How am I going to clean my hair? Who knows what could be in there. I lathered my head with shampoo. Hopefully this will work, no way am I going out with nappy hair. The doorbell suddenly rang, "Fucking shit."