Chapter Ten

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Chapter Ten: Ray’s POV

I finish packing a small bag and throw it into the backseat of my car. Today I was going to be an inspirational speaker at one of the colleges located in the area. I was going to talk about my career and writing in front of all the English and Journalism majors in the auditorium. Hopefully I can even help someone in pursuing their dreams, maybe even get someone to switch majors and change to something worth studying, like literature. It wasn’t just an assembly for anyone involved in writing, it was for anyone who was interested in going, and I knew I could be a very persuasive man if I needed to be.

I walk into the vast auditorium and wait for the seats to fill up. I see lines of students dressed in all different clothes and face expressions. From someone wearing all black and looking miserable to another wearing almost every color looking as if they just won the lottery. I mean, they kind of are about to, my advice that I’m going to give these people is worth millions of dollars.

Taking my place behind the podium, I begin to arrange my papers, on which I had my speech written on.

“Hello students, many of you probably already know me, but my name is Ray West. I’m here to speak to you about a future in writing, or a career.”

With that opening line, I begin my speech, flipping through my papers as I go. I talk about how dedicated you have to be, how hard it can get, how to get published, and many more things. I even self-promote my book.

When my guest speaking is finally over, two hours later, I end up selling some of my books. I sign a bit of them too, when people pay twenty more dollars. What can I say? I’m expensive.

Finishing up my book signing, I collect my papers and extra books and place them back in my briefcase, before heading out the building. I am walking towards my car, when I bump into a short woman, who is covered in paint.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” She gushes, trying to wipe the paint off my suit, which gets more paint on me. I notice the paint, which is an assortment of colors, is beginning to stain and dry on my suit jacket, which received most of the blow, since her head only reached below my shoulders.

“Jesus, instead of looking like a child running around with paint all over you, how about you look where you’re going?!” I groan, shoving her hands off of me.

“Excuse me?” She scoffs.

Why does that voice and that phrase sound so familiar? I look down at the woman, hoping that what I’m thinking isn’t true.

But it is.

“I should’ve known this was you.” I laugh humorously. “No one else is this inept,” I then roll my eyes.

“Look if I knew you were here, I would’ve avoided even coming this way after my class,” she glares at me. “Sorry that I ruined your suit but it’s not my fault, you could’ve moved away. Why are you even here? Are you stalking me?”

“I have better things to do then follow around someone like you.” I scoff.

“Obviously not. What other things could you even be doing? Writing another book? Because we both know that you can’t write another book if it was going to save your life.”

I send a glare her way, before finally glancing at her. Paint splotches cover her entire body that range in a variety of colors.

“Why are you a human canvas?”

“You wish I was, you creep. I’m covered in paint because I was working on my big project.”

I was trying to find a pun for that, one that included paint brushes, but I couldn’t think of one that wasn’t too dirty. We were not that close yet.

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