12:26 | n.g.

chapter » 32

i decided to write an additional chapter bc wtf not?

i honestly love this chapter bc im so proud of my willow bby. she is love, she is life.

so, dont judge me, but i went back to read 12:26 to just get an idea of what to write next and i feel like a majority of it was about nash and #wash and stuff. ik it talks about willows background some but it never really explained her feelings and emotions until after nash died. and they were rly sad ones. so this one is just her being proud of herself bc tha nigga got her book read by John Green and The New York fucking Times !! like holy shat.

anywhore, she talks about how she wants to be an author all throughout the story so if u havent picked up on why exactly shes happy about this whole situation, thats why. she wants to be an author bc she promised nash.

so, heres a v short chapter to fill u in on her NYC life

ps. idek who tf trisha garner or Ivy Hodge is. it just sounded rly professional so... i used it hehe

-xox alex

__

"In less than a week, 12:26 had already climbed to a New York Times bestseller. I had never ending emails from readers and various authors that I pratically worship. I already had a movie director begging on his knees to let him turn my story into a movie. My life was at its prime."

»

After a few months, I took a flight (completely paid for by The New York Times editor and chief, might I add) to New York, New York.

My summer was almost perfect, filled with parties, long nights on the beach with my best friends, and endless pizzas. Some days, I would lay in bed and read my own story and listen to our playlist. Most days, I would find myself happier and happier by the minute. Cam and Astrid were extremely supportive through the random break downs and fits of crying at random hours.

Cam, Astrid, and I, as well as a few of our other friends, set out to California. With the help of Trisha Garner, a writer for The New York Times, we rented a beautiful beach house and lounged around for almost 2 weeks. It wad beautiful and relaxing to just look outside and see comforting, endless waves of crystal blue.

I remember one night in particular. We had had a campfire outside and then all crashed. I recall a haunting nightmare that involved Nash-I had lost him again. Cameron woke me up, holding me tight in his arms as I sobbed over my love. He would carress my hair and whisper "he still loves you" in my ear. Without my best friends, I wouldn't be alive.

After we left, I had to depart for New York. It was heartbreaking to leave my friends and my family behind, but we all knew this was once in a lifetime. I had an apartment just a block away from The New York Times office waiting for me in the Big Apple. It was going to be lonely, and I knew that. I simply had to make friends and I'd be alright.

So, I as I sat waiting for my flight with Anna, dad, and Will, my heart was pounding. I was nervously wringing my hands and rubbing my sweaty palms against my jeans. I was terrifyed that I would arrive in New York and the publishers would realize that I was simply too young. Or that I didn't have enough experience.

Anna reassuringly squeezed my hand tightly. As my flight was announced over the intercom, our breathing hitched, our stomaches dropping. I stood, swallowing hard. I bit back tears as I looked at my dad.

"Are you okay?" I asked him.

He wiped away his tears and engulfed me in a hug. "Of course not. I'm sending my baby girl off into one of the most dangerous cities in the world to follow her dreams. I'm not okay."

I felt tears well in my eyes at this, pulling away. "I love you, daddy. I'll see you soon."

He nodded as I hugged Anna tight. "I'm so proud."

"Thank you for being there when no one was," I whispered to her softly.

She kissed my cheek tenderly. "Live your dreams."

When I got to Will, he was idly playing with air as most babies did. "And you, you little booger, better be good. You have the best parents in the world," I told him, kissing his nose. "I love you, Will."

He simply giggled in return and continued to being a baby. I said goodbye one last time and walked away from the only life I've ever known.

»

New York was everything I had imagined it to be-very big, very loud, very crowded, very beautiful.

When I arrived at the airport to find a cute old man holding a sign that read "Miss Willow Raynes," I was dumbfounded. The gentleman proceeded to tell me that his taxi was awaiting me. Once I climbed in, I found a note from the publisher of The New York Times.

"Dear Miss Raynes,

I am ecstatic to have you join our team and have your story published! I adored it and your writing. I hope to see you very soon, but for now, Gerald will be driving you to your apartment. The keycode is: 12654. Settle in and explore the city. I'll email you tomorrow's plans!

-Ivy Hodge"

The driver, Gerald, looked at me through the rearview mirror. "Miss Ivy is an extremely nice lady. I'm sure you'll love her."

I smiled timidly. "I hope so."

When we arrived at my apartment, Gerald offered to help me unpack my things but I kindly declined. I could handle it. As I slung the final bag over my shoulder, he drove off.

I fumbled with my phone in my pocket to tell dad I had arrived when I ran into someone's back. When I looked up to apologize, I was met with familiar blue eyes. The boy gasped. "I'm so sorry! Are you alright?"

I studied him, his features almost identical to Nash's. "I-I'm fine. What's your name?" I asked creepishly.

He looked at me weirdly, a cute smile playing on his lips. "Ash."

I blinked, my memory reminding me painfully that Nash was gone. "Oh. I'm Willow."

He shook my hand, small dimples showing. "Nice to meet you, Willow."

I nodded. "You as well."

He looked at my hair. "I like the pink color."

I felt tears brim my eyes. "Thank you. But I have to go." I rushed up the steps to my apartment and quickly punched in the code.

When I entered, I threw my stuff down and rummaged through my crafts bag until I found my scissors. I didn't hesitate to rush around to each room, in search of a bathroom.

When I found it, I stood before the mirror, slowing my breathing. I took a hard swallow, bringing the scissors to the tips of my hair. With a quick snip, my pink ends fell to the floor in an array of broken hearts and new beginnings.