"I don't know if you've noticed, but there's some pretty creative graffiti around town lately. Some interesting posters, too, and the other day my assistant came across a set of postcards left in a phone booth. I think it's all the same artist -- there's always the word fantastic mixed in. It's really inspired."
Katie grabbed Eoin's hand and squeezed hard. "You hearing this, Eoin?"
"I sure am." He squeezed back.
"I want that artist, whoever it is. I want that artist to design my campaign." Rebecca pointed a finger in Katie's face. "Find me that fantastic person or I walk."
And then she staggered away.
"Oh my God, Katie." Eoin grabbed her by the shoulders (having first put his drink down, of course). "This is it! This is your big moment!"
His eyes were all lit up and sparkly -- if she hadn't overheard him tell Bobby that he loved her, she'd've known it now, anyway. "Isn't this just amazing?"
"Yeah, it's..." Katie felt a little surge of panic. "It's terrible, Eoin!"
"But why?" He had to shout to be heard over the loud dance music pumping through the Rococo Room's speakers.
"It's just...Can we go outside?" She shouted into Eoin's ear.
"Sure!" He nodded, then pointed over his shoulder. "I'm just nipping to the washroom! Meet me out there?"
Katie nodded, and headed outside, pleased to be alone with her thoughts for a moment.
Only when she got outside, she wasn't alone. Melissa was there, sneaking a cigarette with Nora.
"Melissa!" Katie scolded. "I thought you quit."
Melissa looked guilty, and shrugged. "I did. I have. This is just..."
"Oh would you lay off, Katie?" Nora took a long drag on her cigarette. Leaning up against the wall in her cool brown leather jacket, one high-heeled foot propped up against the bricks, she looked like a serious femme fatale. "This is her birthday. Shouldn't a girl be allowed to smoke on her birthday?"
"I guess, if she wants to limit the number of birthdays in her future," Katie muttered. Melissa heard her, and she laughed. She took one last drag on the smoke and then crushed it out.
"So where's that funny-looking Irishman you're hanging out with?" Nora asked.
Katie gave her a long, cold look. "He's inside," she said, evenly, not rising to the bait.
"Well, that's it for me," Nora said. Melissa went to follow her into the club but Katie pulled on her sleeve, holding her back.
"What's up?" Melissa asked, quietly; Katie waited until Nora was inside before she talked.
"So the thing is I've been putting up art all over the city, as a way to reach out to my sister. Like, guerrilla-style. And now Rebecca -- your client -- has asked me if I can find the artist who's been making the graffiti and posters and stuff and hire them to work for her campaign."
"So that's awesome," said Melissa.
"Is it? Because I'm. the. artist." Katie said it slowly, carefully, as though Melissa hadn't heard.
"And?"
"And I'm not sure....what happens when she finds out it's me?"
"She hires you and you finally get recognition for your work?" Melissa prompted. At this point Eoin had appeared.
"Are you saying you don't know if you can handle it?" He asked, pointedly.
"Maybe? I mean....Rebecca's looking for an artist, and I'm just a girl looking for her sister. I'm not...I never had that show. And we tried to put it on twice. And it was a mess both times. And I took some classes but..." Katie was feeling panicky, she was thinking of those weeks, months, hiding at her aunt's house, after she left Bobby and she came back to "Make It" and all she made was a mess. She was like the kid in Fame who dropped out first semester. (Was there such a character? Who could remember? And did it even matter? (Exactly!!))
"Listen." Melissa bent down so that she was eye to eye with her much shorter friend. "Bobby told me about that talk you had. That you've been, like, crippled with guilt and fear, or something, since you broke up with him." Katie glanced at Eoin, who raised an eyebrow at her. Damn. She knew she should have told him about Bobby when she'd had the chance! "I think, and he thinks, that you have to set yourself free. Right? Otherwise, why did you put yourself, and him, through all that? Jump at this chance!"
Melissa's words were comforting, and they were making Katie brave. But there was another issue. "So let's say I do. Am I selling out?" Katie turned to Eoin, the most "artist" person she knew. "If I do this, if I make my art commercial, am I compromising myself?"
"No!" Eoin said, shaking his head. "Not at all. And there's nothing saying you can't do both. Be a commercial artist and an artist artist. The important thing is you wouldn't be just Office Katie anymore."
Katie looked off into the distance, staring at the twinkling streetlights. Somewhere, Anne was out there. Maybe the reason to do this for Rebecca wasn't fame, or fortune, or a fancy way to think about herself. Maybe it was another way to smoke out Anne.
"Okay." She turned back to her friends. "Let's go find Rebecca."
"Sure." Eoin smiled back. "But first, what's the deal with you and Bobby?"
******
They didn't end up talking with Rebecca at the Rococo Room -- she'd passed out by the time they went back inside. Instead, Katie and Melissa called a meeting for Tuesday afternoon.
Rebecca arrived early, with lattes for everyone, and the three of them sat down around the board room table.
"So." Rebecca sipped her drink. "What have you brought me all the way down here for, ladies?"
Katie's heart froze. Rebecca had forgotten. She'd been so drunk she'd completely put their conversation about the secret street artist out of her mind.
"Don't tell me you've found the Toronto Bansky already?" Rebecca asked, and Katie felt a sigh of relief. And then panic -- she wanted another Bansky? Katie wasn't that good. Katie wasn't talented enough. Bansky was -- And she was --
"That is precisely why you're here." Melissa stepped in and saved the day. She nudged her friend. "Katie? Why don't you tell Rebecca the truth?"
Right. "Right!" Katie took a deep breath. "The truth is, Rebecca, the artist is...." Katie's heart did a little drumroll. She pulled out a black beret and jammed it on her head. "Ta da!"
A long, wide silence filled the board room.
"Excuse me?" Rebecca didn't get it. "What is going on here?"
Katie felt her face growing hot and red, from her peter pan collar to her navy blue tam. She reached up to touch her little hat. "It's me. I'm the artist." Her voice was quite quiet.
"What?" Rebecca's mouth fell open.
"That's what the hat is for....It was a prop...." Katie pulled the beret off her head and squished it up into a little ball. "Sorry, it was stupid. I just wanted to have a fun way to tell you. " Katie glanced over at Melissa, who was stifling a laugh.
"Katie is telling you, Rebecca, that she's our Bansky. Katie Christensen is the artist you're looking for."
Rebecca narrowed her eyes at them. "Really? Do you have any proof?"
Katie pulled out her portfolio, and pushed it across to Rebecca, who spent ten minutes going through it. At the end she took the twisted beret from Katie's hands, and put it firmly on Katie's head.
"Bien sur," she said. "You are definitely une artiste!"
You Decide!
Katie and Eoin have supper with her mother and her aunt, so that they can finally meet her boyfriend and hear about what's going on with Anne
or
Eoin's project is finally unveiled at a gallery downtown and Katie and Eoin talk about love
GUEST WRITERS!
Anyone else want to help write this story?
I am looking for people who can write a chapter sometime during the next 3 months as I'll be busy with my book being published by FictionExpress. I won't be able to be as regular with my Katie posts as I've been in the past, so I'm asking readers of this blog to help write Katie's story, if they'd like!
So far Ann, my sister Keri, and Bruna have all expressed interest in helping out. (Bruna, I know you were kind of kidding, and that you worry your English might not be good enough, but I promise, we'd make it work!)
Please email me if you'd like to write this next chapter (jennysryanATgmailDOTcom). I don't mind helping with ideas or edits, and I don't even mind if your "chapter" is just point form what you think should happen. We can totally use that, too! I just think some of you might have fun doing this, AND it would help me out.
So who's up for the challenge??
Monday, November 14, 2011
Friday, November 11, 2011
Jenny's First Book Deal!
When I started writing this little blognovel here, I knew I couldn't be the only person writing like this. Somewhere, someone else was probably just as lazy as me, and wanted other people to tell them what to write about.
So I started to investigate. I found Destiny Chasers, a blognovel thing for young readers that a woman named Ceri is writing, and I also found Fiction Express, which is also for young people, who have to pay 39pence to "unlock" each week's chapter. Just like with Katie's story, the authors (who are all Real Authors with Actual Published Books) end each chapter with three or four choices, and the next chapter written is based on whichever choice got the most votes.
With some encouragement, and in a fit of crazy, I wrote up a sample first chapter for a young adult novel (at the time called "Twice Upon a Time In Mexico") and sent it to the publisher. And they commissioned it!
"Falling Backwards" is about Leah, a 16-year-old who is on her way to Mexico on an exchange. While on the plane she meets April, a woman who did a Mexican exchange 17 years ago, only hers was a disaster. The plane goes through a terrible storm, Leah faints, and when she awakens she finds herself in April's 16 year old body, in 1994.
The first chapter goes "live" on November 18th, at which point readers will have three days to download, read, and vote on what should happen in the next week's chapter. I'll be emailed the results from the votes on Monday morning, and I'll have to write a 3,000 word chapter to be sent to my editor for Wednesday. We'll then go back and forth with the chapter until Friday morning, when the chapter is published, and we do it all over again. This whole exercise will repeat itself for 10 weeks....(11 chapters in total).
I'm pretty excited, though nervous. I think it'll be a great time, and I really hope you'll all read it and participate. It will be so nice to have friends along for the ride!
The sad thing is that I won't have as much time to devote to other things in life, such as eating, laundry, or writing Katie and Eoin's story. Because I will still be working full time, and this new book is being "Edited" I can't just write a chapter and throw it up there at the last minute, spelling errors and all. It has to be Professional. Which means Katie, my non-professional, might have to take a back seat.
I will still try to write new chapters for her when I can, but they might be quite short. I know you will understand, and I am NOT abandoning her -- we still have a lot of her story to tell. We'll get there....
And here is where you come in.
WOULD ANY OF YOU LIKE TO BE A GUEST WRITER? WOULD ANY OF YOU LIKE TO WRITE A CHAPTER OF THIS STORY???
Please let me know if you'd like to take a week or two and help me to finish Katie's story...I could help with editing and things if you are nervous about it.
Okay! So that's the news.
Jenny
So I started to investigate. I found Destiny Chasers, a blognovel thing for young readers that a woman named Ceri is writing, and I also found Fiction Express, which is also for young people, who have to pay 39pence to "unlock" each week's chapter. Just like with Katie's story, the authors (who are all Real Authors with Actual Published Books) end each chapter with three or four choices, and the next chapter written is based on whichever choice got the most votes.
With some encouragement, and in a fit of crazy, I wrote up a sample first chapter for a young adult novel (at the time called "Twice Upon a Time In Mexico") and sent it to the publisher. And they commissioned it!
"Falling Backwards" is about Leah, a 16-year-old who is on her way to Mexico on an exchange. While on the plane she meets April, a woman who did a Mexican exchange 17 years ago, only hers was a disaster. The plane goes through a terrible storm, Leah faints, and when she awakens she finds herself in April's 16 year old body, in 1994.
The first chapter goes "live" on November 18th, at which point readers will have three days to download, read, and vote on what should happen in the next week's chapter. I'll be emailed the results from the votes on Monday morning, and I'll have to write a 3,000 word chapter to be sent to my editor for Wednesday. We'll then go back and forth with the chapter until Friday morning, when the chapter is published, and we do it all over again. This whole exercise will repeat itself for 10 weeks....(11 chapters in total).
I'm pretty excited, though nervous. I think it'll be a great time, and I really hope you'll all read it and participate. It will be so nice to have friends along for the ride!
The sad thing is that I won't have as much time to devote to other things in life, such as eating, laundry, or writing Katie and Eoin's story. Because I will still be working full time, and this new book is being "Edited" I can't just write a chapter and throw it up there at the last minute, spelling errors and all. It has to be Professional. Which means Katie, my non-professional, might have to take a back seat.
I will still try to write new chapters for her when I can, but they might be quite short. I know you will understand, and I am NOT abandoning her -- we still have a lot of her story to tell. We'll get there....
And here is where you come in.
WOULD ANY OF YOU LIKE TO BE A GUEST WRITER? WOULD ANY OF YOU LIKE TO WRITE A CHAPTER OF THIS STORY???
Please let me know if you'd like to take a week or two and help me to finish Katie's story...I could help with editing and things if you are nervous about it.
Okay! So that's the news.
Jenny
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Chapter 36: In Which The Author Writes a Bunch of Dialogue Which May or May Not Have Any Bearing On The Novel As A Whole, But She Was On a Roll
Just then Katie’s phone in began to vibrate. “It’s Eoin,” she said.
“He says he thinks he’s in love with you.” Bobby sighed. “Heaven help him.”
“Should I answer it?”
“What have I been telling you? Live the life you want to live. And if that includes Mr Fancy Pants Artist, then answer the damn phone.”
And Katie did. Because he maybe kind of loved her. And she maybe kind of loved him. And that was a pretty fantastic start to the rest of her life.
* * *
"So this is the infamous Rococo Room." Eoin, off the booze for the night, took a sip of his soda-with-lime.
"Infamous?" Katie was nursing a Moscow mule. "Is it?" They were leaning against a railing dividing the VIP room from the riff raff. She still hadn't asked him about this "love" business. She wasn't entirely sure how to bring it up. Nor had she told him about Bobby being her ex. She wasn't sure the Rococo Room was the best environs for either chat.
"Well, sure." Eoin said. "I mean, it's all this crowd was talking about for, like, the whole walk over." His long arm swept the space, where Melissa's friends were all lounging around on crushed velvet sofas and leaning against ornately-patterned wallpaper. The place looked like a very upscale brothel. Eoin's head had nearly hit a low-hanging chandelier on their way in.
"It is pretty fancy," conceded Katie. "I just wish the drinks weren't so expensive."
"That's how you know you've made it," he said. "When the drinks cost more than the snacks."
"I believe they're called tapas in a place like this." Katie felt a bit giddy, and it wasn't just the vodka. Even though her conversation with Bobby had been difficult, it had been freeing, in a way. He seemed like he was doing okay. He was over by the bar, chatting with Melissa. Katie would have to ask her later what they talked about.
"Whatever," Eoin rolled his eyes. "Do you want anything?" He proffered a Tasting Menu and they scanned the list. "Look. Nachos! Don't they seem a bit too common for this place?"
"Ah, these are made in the Rococo Style -- see? Served with caramelized vegetables and rich dipping sauces, in an ornately sculpted bowl."
"Ooh! Are you guys getting food?" Rebecca had not slowed her booze consumption; she was carrying around a bottle of champagne and a glass. "Anyone want some? I got it for Melissa's big day. But she only wanted one glass!" She hiccuped and poured out the dregs from the bottle. "Oops! Nothing left for you two."
"That's fine. We're okay," said Eoin.
"Listen, Katie. I need to talk with you," Rebecca whispered loudly.
"You do?"
"Yes." Rebecca wedged herself into the space between Eoin and Katie. "I've been talking with your cousin Violet about the great success she's had with your marketing campaigns --"
"You have?"
"Yes. I got the number from that mousy little assistant of yours."
"Erica gave you Violet's number?"
"Yes. I called the office yesterday. You weren't there so Erica helped me out. I hope that's okay."
"Of course, it's fine." Erica must have given Rebecca her own cellphone number and pretended to be Violet. Erica's work with the Improfessionals was certainly paying off.
"I must confess that I was thinking of leaving your organization and taking my business elsewhere -- though Melissa is a lovely girl, she's just not giving me what I want." Rebecca tried to pour more champagne from the bottle, obviously having forgotten that it was empty. "But before I left, I wanted to hear from Violet. She's been such a loyal client, and I know it can't just be the family connection."
"So what did she tell you?" Katie was almost afraid to ask.
"Oh, that you think outside the box, that you're a super leader, and really nice. That kind of thing. That when you going, you're really inspiring and have great, creative ideas...you know."
"She really said all that?" Katie felt a warm glow. She really should get Erica a plant or something for her desk.
"So here's the thing. I've got a proposition for you." For a drunk person, Rebecca suddenly seemed very sober.
"Sure. Anything."
"I don't know if you've noticed, but there's some pretty creative graffiti around town lately. Some interesting posters, too, and the other day my assistant came across a set of postcards left in a phone booth. I think it's all the same artist -- there's always the word fantastic mixed in. It's really inspired."
Katie grabbed Eoin's hand and squeezed hard. "You hearing this, Eoin?"
"I sure am." He squeezed back.
"I want that artist, whoever it is. I want that artist to design my campaign." Rebecca pointed a finger in Katie's face. "Find me that fantastic person or I walk."
You Decide!
Katie and Eoin tell Rebecca the truth about the mastermind behind the graffiti campaign,
or
Katie and Eoin pretend they have no idea what Rebecca is talking about.
“He says he thinks he’s in love with you.” Bobby sighed. “Heaven help him.”
“Should I answer it?”
“What have I been telling you? Live the life you want to live. And if that includes Mr Fancy Pants Artist, then answer the damn phone.”
And Katie did. Because he maybe kind of loved her. And she maybe kind of loved him. And that was a pretty fantastic start to the rest of her life.
* * *
"So this is the infamous Rococo Room." Eoin, off the booze for the night, took a sip of his soda-with-lime.
"Infamous?" Katie was nursing a Moscow mule. "Is it?" They were leaning against a railing dividing the VIP room from the riff raff. She still hadn't asked him about this "love" business. She wasn't entirely sure how to bring it up. Nor had she told him about Bobby being her ex. She wasn't sure the Rococo Room was the best environs for either chat.
"Well, sure." Eoin said. "I mean, it's all this crowd was talking about for, like, the whole walk over." His long arm swept the space, where Melissa's friends were all lounging around on crushed velvet sofas and leaning against ornately-patterned wallpaper. The place looked like a very upscale brothel. Eoin's head had nearly hit a low-hanging chandelier on their way in.
"It is pretty fancy," conceded Katie. "I just wish the drinks weren't so expensive."
"That's how you know you've made it," he said. "When the drinks cost more than the snacks."
"I believe they're called tapas in a place like this." Katie felt a bit giddy, and it wasn't just the vodka. Even though her conversation with Bobby had been difficult, it had been freeing, in a way. He seemed like he was doing okay. He was over by the bar, chatting with Melissa. Katie would have to ask her later what they talked about.
"Whatever," Eoin rolled his eyes. "Do you want anything?" He proffered a Tasting Menu and they scanned the list. "Look. Nachos! Don't they seem a bit too common for this place?"
"Ah, these are made in the Rococo Style -- see? Served with caramelized vegetables and rich dipping sauces, in an ornately sculpted bowl."
"Ooh! Are you guys getting food?" Rebecca had not slowed her booze consumption; she was carrying around a bottle of champagne and a glass. "Anyone want some? I got it for Melissa's big day. But she only wanted one glass!" She hiccuped and poured out the dregs from the bottle. "Oops! Nothing left for you two."
"That's fine. We're okay," said Eoin.
"Listen, Katie. I need to talk with you," Rebecca whispered loudly.
"You do?"
"Yes." Rebecca wedged herself into the space between Eoin and Katie. "I've been talking with your cousin Violet about the great success she's had with your marketing campaigns --"
"You have?"
"Yes. I got the number from that mousy little assistant of yours."
"Erica gave you Violet's number?"
"Yes. I called the office yesterday. You weren't there so Erica helped me out. I hope that's okay."
"Of course, it's fine." Erica must have given Rebecca her own cellphone number and pretended to be Violet. Erica's work with the Improfessionals was certainly paying off.
"I must confess that I was thinking of leaving your organization and taking my business elsewhere -- though Melissa is a lovely girl, she's just not giving me what I want." Rebecca tried to pour more champagne from the bottle, obviously having forgotten that it was empty. "But before I left, I wanted to hear from Violet. She's been such a loyal client, and I know it can't just be the family connection."
"So what did she tell you?" Katie was almost afraid to ask.
"Oh, that you think outside the box, that you're a super leader, and really nice. That kind of thing. That when you going, you're really inspiring and have great, creative ideas...you know."
"She really said all that?" Katie felt a warm glow. She really should get Erica a plant or something for her desk.
"So here's the thing. I've got a proposition for you." For a drunk person, Rebecca suddenly seemed very sober.
"Sure. Anything."
"I don't know if you've noticed, but there's some pretty creative graffiti around town lately. Some interesting posters, too, and the other day my assistant came across a set of postcards left in a phone booth. I think it's all the same artist -- there's always the word fantastic mixed in. It's really inspired."
Katie grabbed Eoin's hand and squeezed hard. "You hearing this, Eoin?"
"I sure am." He squeezed back.
"I want that artist, whoever it is. I want that artist to design my campaign." Rebecca pointed a finger in Katie's face. "Find me that fantastic person or I walk."
You Decide!
Katie and Eoin tell Rebecca the truth about the mastermind behind the graffiti campaign,
or
Katie and Eoin pretend they have no idea what Rebecca is talking about.
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Chapter 35: In Which Katie and Bobby Have An Emotional Talk In The Rain
Dammit! Bobby had found Eoin before she’d been able to explain. She hadn’t wanted that to happen. She’d wanted to break it to him gently, she wanted him to hear about her new relationship from her. And she wanted Eoin to find out about Bobby from her. Damn David and his unborn child!
Maybe there was still time. She hovered around the door way, eavesdropping.
“Katie? Sure, I know her,” Eoin said pleasantly in his kind, sexy, Irish accent.
“Do you know her well?” Bobby asked.
Okay. That was it. She should go in now. Before it was too --
“Definitely.” Eoin kind of slurred the word. “She’s my girlfriend.” Really? He’d never called her that before. It was so sweet. “And I’ll tell you this only because you’re a stranger and I’m drunk -- but I am pretty sure I’m in love with her.”
What?
“Oh,” was all Bobby managed, and Eoin started giggling in this weird, nervous way. “Sorry, man, that was....wow. That totally came out of no where.”
No kidding. Katie stood there, outside the doorway, incredulous. I’m pretty sure I’m in love with her. Had he really said that?
“No, it’s fine,” said Bobby, but it wasn’t fine, Katie could tell from his voice that Bobby wasn’t fine. Katie’s heart was torn in two. On the one hand, she was happy (was she? Or was she freaked out? She thought she must be happy. But also freaked out. Surely that was a normal reaction to hearing that the person you’re seeing is a) your new boyfriend and b) in love with you? Especially if the first person he tells is your ex...) but on the other hand she felt sad for Bobby, the man who’d wanted to marry her, who had actually said, “No one will ever love you like I do,” when she’d left him. It didn’t seem fair that Bobby had to hear this.
And so Katie blundered into the room.
“Hey!” She leaped onto the bed, amongst the jackets. “Here you are!” She wasn’t specific about who she meant by “you.” She could have meant anyone, she just needed to get into the room, into the conversation.
“I was just getting our jackets,” said Eoin.
“Thanks.” She took hers from him. Now what?
“So it turns out you know a talent scout,” Eoin said, leaning down to kiss her. Katie pulled away, jamming her arms into her jacket sleeves.
“Bobby? Oh, yes. I know him.” Katie looked over at Bobby and felt guilt overwhelm her. “I know him” was too simple, too generic. This was a man she’d loved.
“Well, I’m going to head out now,” Bobby was holding out a card to Eoin. “Eoin, I’d love for you to get in touch. I’ll be in town for the next few days if you’d like to show me your work.” The two men smiled Business Man smiles, shook hands, and Bobby left the bedroom.
And Eoin’s long, strong arms were around her waist, pulling her in. He smelled like booze. “Katie, I’ve missed you. I’ve been talking with that guy all night. God, he was boring.”
“He’s not boring,” Katie said. “He’s just...organized.”
“How do you know him, anyway?”
“It’s a long story.”
“You didn’t used to date, did you?”
“Kind of. Look. I’ve just got to catch him. Wait for me here?”
“Sure,” Eoin smiled and kissed her cheek. “As long as you come back. As long as you’re not trying to get back together with him.”
“Never,” Katie promised. Eoin crawled onto the bed, under the coats, and Katie ran out of the bedroom.
Bobby wasn’t in the kitchen, wasn’t in the bathroom, wasn’t in the living room, wasn’t with the others, gathering in the hallway getting themselves organized to go to the Roccocco Room for part two of the party. She saw Melissa, who was changing into a pair of white ballet flats.
“No way I’m walking 6 blocks in these,” she held up the 4-inch heels. “Not when I plan to drink mojitos all night.”
“Good thinking,” Katie said, distractedly. “Listen, have you seen Bobby?”
“Yeah, I think he just left.”
“Thanks,” Katie said, already out the door and running towards the elevator. “Damn!” The elevator was going down, rushing towards the main floor. Katie took the stairs, two, three at a time, leaping to the landings and racing as fast as she could. She needed to talk to Bobby. She needed to say the things to him that she should have said so long ago but instead he was leaving, walking away, with her blase “oh, yeah, I know him,” and Eoin’s “I love her” running through his mind. (And through hers, too, Eoin’s words running round and round her head while she tried to decide how she felt about them, in a safe, quiet part of her heart set aside for things like that.
By the time she got downstairs the elevator was already on its way back up, and Bobby was nowhere to be seen in the lobby, so Katie rushed out of the building, and onto the sidewalk, the whole time wondering just what it was inside of her that was making her run after her ex-boyfriend instead of telling her new boyfriend that she loved him, too.
And then there he was, up ahead, Bobby, with his hands jammed into his pockets and his head hunched down against the wind. “Bobby!”
He stopped, turned around, and stood there, on the sidewalk, under the street light. “Katie?”
“Wait there!” She called. “I need to talk to you.”
She ran as fast as she could in her impractical party shoes (unlike Melissa, she did not travel with a spare pair), but Bobby didn’t move to get closer; he only stood there, waiting for her to catch up. There was a time he’d have gone anywhere, done anything, for her, but tonight he was standing firmly in one place, making her come to him.
“Bobby.” She had finally caught up to him. “I need to talk to you.”
“Yeah,” was all he said. “Me too.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming to town?”
“Would it have mattered?” He looked tired, hurt.
“Well, I would have been prepared.”
“What would you have done differently?”
“I would have invited you out for lunch, for one.” She tried for playful, for a smile. It was starting to rain, a little, the cold drops of spring.
“I don’t know why I didn’t tell you. I guess I didn’t want to see you.”
“So you came to Melissa’s birthday party?”
“I guess I secretly did want to see you.”
“That’s fucked.”
“I know.”
And they smiled. And the rain came down harder.
“Look, Bobby, don’t go. I want to explain about Eoin.”
“What’s there to explain? You came here to break into the art world. It only makes sense that you’d hook up with one of it’s brightest lights.” Bobby only sounded a little bit bitter, he was also kind of in awe.
“It’s not like that. I’m not an artist. I’m just …” Katie pulled her jacket hood up. “I’m not entirely sure what I’m doing. And I feel badly, I feel guilty about you because … my life is kind of a mess. And I need to apologize, Bobby. Please, let me apologize.”
The sky cracked, lighting sliced through the darkness above. The rain kept coming, and yet they still stood there, not moving.
“Why should you apologize? Why should you feel sorry about me?”
“Because I’m a loser!” And then thunder crashed around them with perfect dramatic timing. “I left you do great things with myself, I left you so I could be more than what I was, and now I’m … I’m nothing!”
And of course Katie was crying, of course she was. Bobby reached out and pulled her into his arms, held her close, and though it felt different than it used to feel, it still felt nice, it still felt comforting.
“I highly doubt you’re nothing, Katie.” Bobby started walking them back towards the condo building.
“I’m working at an office!” Katie gulped. “I never paint. My sister is a drunk. She’s homeless, you know? Like, she walks dogs for a living. And I was supposed to have an art show and I froze. I chickened out. I left you and our life so I could be better, be amazing, and I’m just …”
They were back in the lobby, now, the rain battering the windows. Bobby shook his head. “I can’t help you, Katie. I can’t tell you it’s okay, because it’s not. Not if you feel that way. But it’s your fault. You left me to make something of yourself and you didn’t.” His words weren’t said with malice, or venom, they were matter-of-fact, and he was stroking the hair out of her eyes as he spoke. But, still: Katie’s heart went cold.
It was the meanest, cruelest thing anyone had ever said to her. “What?” This was not the loving, patient boyfriend she’d known.
“Katie, listen. You do not need to feel guilty, or badly, about what you did to me. I am fine. I had a rough six months but honestly? I’m doing a lot better. But it sounds like you’re not.”
“I was supposed to be be fantastic.”
“So do something about it. But stop feeling guilty about me. Stop worrying that what you’re doing, or not doing, affects me. Because I’m more or less over you.”
“You are?”
“As over you as I can be. I mean, you basically destroyed my heart and ruined my life plans. But, you know, I’m trying to make the best of things. So why aren’t you?”
Just then Katie’s phone in began to vibrate. “It’s Eoin,” she said.
“He says he thinks he’s in love with you.” Bobby sighed. “Heaven help him.”
“Should I answer it?”
“What have I been telling you? Live the life you want to live. And if that includes Mr Fancy Pants Artist, then answer the damn phone.”
And Katie did. Because he maybe kind of loved her. And she maybe kind of loved him. And that was a pretty fantastic start to the rest of her life.
You Decide!
I have an idea about what I want to have happen with Rebecca and Katie, but I’m unsure as to the setting. It involves Katie’s Guerilla Art Projects.
Should it go down at the Roccocco Room, where Eoin and Rebecca are both drunk,
or
should it happen on Monday at work, where Rebecca is totally embarassed about her behaviour at the bar? (NB: this choice would mean we jump ahead in time, and you won’t get to read about the Rococco Room)
Maybe there was still time. She hovered around the door way, eavesdropping.
“Katie? Sure, I know her,” Eoin said pleasantly in his kind, sexy, Irish accent.
“Do you know her well?” Bobby asked.
Okay. That was it. She should go in now. Before it was too --
“Definitely.” Eoin kind of slurred the word. “She’s my girlfriend.” Really? He’d never called her that before. It was so sweet. “And I’ll tell you this only because you’re a stranger and I’m drunk -- but I am pretty sure I’m in love with her.”
What?
“Oh,” was all Bobby managed, and Eoin started giggling in this weird, nervous way. “Sorry, man, that was....wow. That totally came out of no where.”
No kidding. Katie stood there, outside the doorway, incredulous. I’m pretty sure I’m in love with her. Had he really said that?
“No, it’s fine,” said Bobby, but it wasn’t fine, Katie could tell from his voice that Bobby wasn’t fine. Katie’s heart was torn in two. On the one hand, she was happy (was she? Or was she freaked out? She thought she must be happy. But also freaked out. Surely that was a normal reaction to hearing that the person you’re seeing is a) your new boyfriend and b) in love with you? Especially if the first person he tells is your ex...) but on the other hand she felt sad for Bobby, the man who’d wanted to marry her, who had actually said, “No one will ever love you like I do,” when she’d left him. It didn’t seem fair that Bobby had to hear this.
And so Katie blundered into the room.
“Hey!” She leaped onto the bed, amongst the jackets. “Here you are!” She wasn’t specific about who she meant by “you.” She could have meant anyone, she just needed to get into the room, into the conversation.
“I was just getting our jackets,” said Eoin.
“Thanks.” She took hers from him. Now what?
“So it turns out you know a talent scout,” Eoin said, leaning down to kiss her. Katie pulled away, jamming her arms into her jacket sleeves.
“Bobby? Oh, yes. I know him.” Katie looked over at Bobby and felt guilt overwhelm her. “I know him” was too simple, too generic. This was a man she’d loved.
“Well, I’m going to head out now,” Bobby was holding out a card to Eoin. “Eoin, I’d love for you to get in touch. I’ll be in town for the next few days if you’d like to show me your work.” The two men smiled Business Man smiles, shook hands, and Bobby left the bedroom.
And Eoin’s long, strong arms were around her waist, pulling her in. He smelled like booze. “Katie, I’ve missed you. I’ve been talking with that guy all night. God, he was boring.”
“He’s not boring,” Katie said. “He’s just...organized.”
“How do you know him, anyway?”
“It’s a long story.”
“You didn’t used to date, did you?”
“Kind of. Look. I’ve just got to catch him. Wait for me here?”
“Sure,” Eoin smiled and kissed her cheek. “As long as you come back. As long as you’re not trying to get back together with him.”
“Never,” Katie promised. Eoin crawled onto the bed, under the coats, and Katie ran out of the bedroom.
Bobby wasn’t in the kitchen, wasn’t in the bathroom, wasn’t in the living room, wasn’t with the others, gathering in the hallway getting themselves organized to go to the Roccocco Room for part two of the party. She saw Melissa, who was changing into a pair of white ballet flats.
“No way I’m walking 6 blocks in these,” she held up the 4-inch heels. “Not when I plan to drink mojitos all night.”
“Good thinking,” Katie said, distractedly. “Listen, have you seen Bobby?”
“Yeah, I think he just left.”
“Thanks,” Katie said, already out the door and running towards the elevator. “Damn!” The elevator was going down, rushing towards the main floor. Katie took the stairs, two, three at a time, leaping to the landings and racing as fast as she could. She needed to talk to Bobby. She needed to say the things to him that she should have said so long ago but instead he was leaving, walking away, with her blase “oh, yeah, I know him,” and Eoin’s “I love her” running through his mind. (And through hers, too, Eoin’s words running round and round her head while she tried to decide how she felt about them, in a safe, quiet part of her heart set aside for things like that.
By the time she got downstairs the elevator was already on its way back up, and Bobby was nowhere to be seen in the lobby, so Katie rushed out of the building, and onto the sidewalk, the whole time wondering just what it was inside of her that was making her run after her ex-boyfriend instead of telling her new boyfriend that she loved him, too.
And then there he was, up ahead, Bobby, with his hands jammed into his pockets and his head hunched down against the wind. “Bobby!”
He stopped, turned around, and stood there, on the sidewalk, under the street light. “Katie?”
“Wait there!” She called. “I need to talk to you.”
She ran as fast as she could in her impractical party shoes (unlike Melissa, she did not travel with a spare pair), but Bobby didn’t move to get closer; he only stood there, waiting for her to catch up. There was a time he’d have gone anywhere, done anything, for her, but tonight he was standing firmly in one place, making her come to him.
“Bobby.” She had finally caught up to him. “I need to talk to you.”
“Yeah,” was all he said. “Me too.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming to town?”
“Would it have mattered?” He looked tired, hurt.
“Well, I would have been prepared.”
“What would you have done differently?”
“I would have invited you out for lunch, for one.” She tried for playful, for a smile. It was starting to rain, a little, the cold drops of spring.
“I don’t know why I didn’t tell you. I guess I didn’t want to see you.”
“So you came to Melissa’s birthday party?”
“I guess I secretly did want to see you.”
“That’s fucked.”
“I know.”
And they smiled. And the rain came down harder.
“Look, Bobby, don’t go. I want to explain about Eoin.”
“What’s there to explain? You came here to break into the art world. It only makes sense that you’d hook up with one of it’s brightest lights.” Bobby only sounded a little bit bitter, he was also kind of in awe.
“It’s not like that. I’m not an artist. I’m just …” Katie pulled her jacket hood up. “I’m not entirely sure what I’m doing. And I feel badly, I feel guilty about you because … my life is kind of a mess. And I need to apologize, Bobby. Please, let me apologize.”
The sky cracked, lighting sliced through the darkness above. The rain kept coming, and yet they still stood there, not moving.
“Why should you apologize? Why should you feel sorry about me?”
“Because I’m a loser!” And then thunder crashed around them with perfect dramatic timing. “I left you do great things with myself, I left you so I could be more than what I was, and now I’m … I’m nothing!”
And of course Katie was crying, of course she was. Bobby reached out and pulled her into his arms, held her close, and though it felt different than it used to feel, it still felt nice, it still felt comforting.
“I highly doubt you’re nothing, Katie.” Bobby started walking them back towards the condo building.
“I’m working at an office!” Katie gulped. “I never paint. My sister is a drunk. She’s homeless, you know? Like, she walks dogs for a living. And I was supposed to have an art show and I froze. I chickened out. I left you and our life so I could be better, be amazing, and I’m just …”
They were back in the lobby, now, the rain battering the windows. Bobby shook his head. “I can’t help you, Katie. I can’t tell you it’s okay, because it’s not. Not if you feel that way. But it’s your fault. You left me to make something of yourself and you didn’t.” His words weren’t said with malice, or venom, they were matter-of-fact, and he was stroking the hair out of her eyes as he spoke. But, still: Katie’s heart went cold.
It was the meanest, cruelest thing anyone had ever said to her. “What?” This was not the loving, patient boyfriend she’d known.
“Katie, listen. You do not need to feel guilty, or badly, about what you did to me. I am fine. I had a rough six months but honestly? I’m doing a lot better. But it sounds like you’re not.”
“I was supposed to be be fantastic.”
“So do something about it. But stop feeling guilty about me. Stop worrying that what you’re doing, or not doing, affects me. Because I’m more or less over you.”
“You are?”
“As over you as I can be. I mean, you basically destroyed my heart and ruined my life plans. But, you know, I’m trying to make the best of things. So why aren’t you?”
Just then Katie’s phone in began to vibrate. “It’s Eoin,” she said.
“He says he thinks he’s in love with you.” Bobby sighed. “Heaven help him.”
“Should I answer it?”
“What have I been telling you? Live the life you want to live. And if that includes Mr Fancy Pants Artist, then answer the damn phone.”
And Katie did. Because he maybe kind of loved her. And she maybe kind of loved him. And that was a pretty fantastic start to the rest of her life.
You Decide!
I have an idea about what I want to have happen with Rebecca and Katie, but I’m unsure as to the setting. It involves Katie’s Guerilla Art Projects.
Should it go down at the Roccocco Room, where Eoin and Rebecca are both drunk,
or
should it happen on Monday at work, where Rebecca is totally embarassed about her behaviour at the bar? (NB: this choice would mean we jump ahead in time, and you won’t get to read about the Rococco Room)
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