[Insert Title Here] Volume 100

The Fiction We Tell Ourselves (Reimagined) - I

*AN: This story is as silly as it was. Even though it has Reimagined innit, it's just a better edited version than the one I posted before but nonetheless please enjoy~*

Albert Lingo is a brilliant up-and-coming writer. He’s capable of spinning some of the most beautiful words through literature. A common epithet others call him by is “the man with magic hands”. Truly he has conjured up works of wonder in very short times. No one knows where or how he gets his inspiration. Nonetheless, he is envied by other apprentice writers, who crave the same publicity and respect from the rest of literary world.

By nature he is secretive, but in comfort he is industrious and diligent, and always committing a hundred percent to his passion. His strongest subject are slices of life. He believes a story should take the mind on a journey, and he aims to go beyond that. However, he is suffering from a dilemma. He already published some anthologies, and while they haven’t become hits, they are very well regarded. But it leaves him wanting to create one of the best that he could ever make, a masterpiece.

Lady Fate must have listened, because then came the day where he met another of his own.

Robert Fleischer is a genius who prides himself on his skills of immersion. His works dabble in almost every genre. This led to a following of fans who enthusiastically praise Robert’s ability to tie the very soul of a reader to the character they relate to. He’s also quite handsome, with a charming look on his face that entices both genders; as contrary to Albert, while plain-looking, could potentially be remarkable if not for his sleep-deprived stature and clumsy habits.

Albert first heard of Robert while he was eavesdropping on gossip. He heard he moved in to an apartment some weeks back, and his book royalties earn him enough to live a decent lifestyle, with room for some relaxation. He sent a letter to his address, inviting him to a local café that Albert frequents. His esteemed acquaintance shows up on time, and he goes over to greet the fellow writer for the first time.
“Good day, Mr Fleischer,” Albert pipes, extending a hand.

“As are yours, Mr Lingo.” He grasps his hand firmly and shakes it.

Now that they’ve gotten past the trappings of introducing themselves, Albert cuts to the chase. “People say I’ve got a great potential in writing. My writing has been lauded for sporting some of best world-building you’ve ever seen from the amateur front. Indeed, I wanted to make a vast and beautiful visualisation, and I did! But I think my immersive aspect is mediocre at best. I think it lacks the ability to immediately engage a reader.

“You, my friend, have exactly what I need.” His lips quirked into a playful smile. “Let us become partners, in a shared endeavour to create a single written work, with both the most exhilarating settings you can imagine, and with the presentation worthy of the chamber theatre and the big screen. Yes, with our powers combined, we shall make a masterpiece. Do you agree?”

Mr Fleischer looked at him squarely, and says, “Sir, you have a deal. Besides, what’s the worst that could happen?”

The ambitious writer gave him a wide grin. “Oh many things, my dear friend. But as a good man once said, that’s the best part.”

Robert barks out a laugh, and he is joined by Albert. They bantered about anything and everything, from the proudest moments of their school days to the most humiliating ones. When the shadows grew long, they walked back to Robert’s flat before bidding each other farewell. Then Albert went home.


Not four months later, Albert was sweating profusely in humiliation. Scrutinizing him was his block’s landlady, and she is having none of his excuses this time, not anymore.

“Get out.” She exhales through her nostrils with the strength of a steam engine. “You’re getting out of here, right now.”

“Have pity on me Madame! I promise that I can pay you if you can give me one more month—“

“You’ve promised me to pay your rent for the last four months, with nothing to show for it.”

“And that I did.” He shakes his head remorsefully. “But please reconsider. The money is minimal, at best, but I’m writing up a big book that will surely earn me all the money you need for rent.”

“Unfortunately I cannot allow that, Mr Lingo,” She said flatly.

“This is the only place I have! Where will I sleep after this?”

The landlady pinches your nose. “I’m sure you’ll manage it, Mr Lingo. Now go pack your things. I’ll send someone to help you out.”

And after a quarter hour, Albert looks back wistfully at his old apartment. He sighs heavily and strolls off, luggage in tow.

What am I ever going to do now? He thought to himself. Without a home, I can’t comfortably write a book that will fulfil my dreams. Whom can I stay with? Jason? No, he’s away in Japan. Angelina? Nope, she left for the France. Noah’s splurging on trips to Latin America. He spits to the ground. If only I had more money, I wouldn’t be in this situation!

Then it hit him. He pulled out his phone and scrolled all the way down to the last contact. His finger hovered over the recipient’s name. It would be rude to ask him of this. But he had no choice. He swipes to the left, and the device dials the number. Moments later the call is accepted.

“This is Robert Fleischer,” the voice says politely.

“Uh hey, it’s me. You remember? Listen… Do you mind if I come over?”