Present Day

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PRESENT DAY

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PRESENT DAY

London, England, November 2000
MISS DAWSON

I used to stand outside Blackwell's bookshop in Charing Cross when I first moved to London; after the trauma and flare of the nineties died down. I would watch all of the authors chatter away about their bestsellers and answer questions from crazed fans and highly intelligent individuals who took the world of make-believe way too seriously. It was like a treat, or more like an encouragement to get a move on with my book.

The story was good, great even, and I knew it was destined for success, but what I didn't know was that it would sweep through Europe on the bestsellers list. Now, like all those other incredible authors, I was sitting in the middle of Blackwell's doing this interview, hundreds of thousands of pounds richer.

I giggle as the interviewer across from me slaps a hand over his mouth, switching between the audience and me. I had just given away intel on my book that was sure to ruffle a few feathers, and now I was waiting for the inevitable questions.

The room erupts with excited chatter, each member of the crowd moving as if unseeing hands are dragging them this way and that, pulling their eyes from me, then to the book in their hands, then to their friends in awe. They respond in predictable ways, each of them with a goal to achieve for the day - to make me spill.

"What's the other ending like then?

"Will you ever publish it?"

"I don't think I'll be able to breathe until I get my hands on that copy!"

"She ends up with Jeonghan, I just know it!"

I cover my mouth to conceal my laughter.

"As amazing as the alternate ending is, this one's from the heart, guys." That was all the information I was willing to give away. "Come on now, ask me things about the actual published book. I'm sure you've all got some juicy questions!"

"Who wants to go first?" the host calls, initiating the war. After what was only half a second, a bunch of arms are thrown into the air, swaying and swatting as if their question being unanswered would activate the end of the world.

"Can I choose, Mr Host?" I wiggle in my chair excitedly, scanning the audience for my first pick.

He nods, motioning for me to go ahead, but no one stands out at first, they're all just giggly teenage girls who look as if their like whole lives revolve around other people's stories and not their own.

"Hm," I hum, "how about you over there with the red hair? You remind me somewhat of my main character."

She squeals to her friend, almost fighting the row of people sitting next to her to get to the microphone.

"Hello, hi, I love your work so much!"

"Thank you!"

"Okay, so I've gotta ask, what's the future like for Satine and Mingyu now that they're reunited?"

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