The Cat's Out of the Bag

Chapter 28

"Focus, you can do this." The office chair protested weakly as Earth leaned back and stretched his arms toward the ceiling. The sun disappeared a while ago, and now all that was left was a dark blue sky fading to the black of night. The soft white glow of the computer screen illuminated the room. He stared blankly at the open document.

The letters and lines that stared back at him began to dance across the white screen, shaping and reforming, never staying still. They seemed to take on a life of their own, and mutated into an image of Earth sitting on stage, guitar in hand, leaning close to the microphone.

Word Art Earth stared at Word Art Mix who formed letter by letter, line by line, beside him. Everything about the image was reassuring until Word Art Earth sang the first note.

Earth winced. How could he be so appalling? A Word Art airplane flew across the scene with a banner flying behind it. It read, "That was bad, really bad." Artie's words were like a broken record intruding on Earth's thoughts unbidden and unwanted.

The video of him and Mix singing was officially seared in his memory for life. Mix and Artie talking about practicing and performing was overwhelming, and neither seemed to want to hear his opinion. He'd tried saying something several times to no avail. He felt completely railroaded.

It had to be his fault. Mix could probably sing that song in his sleep. Where did he go wrong? Did he play the guitar in the wrong key? His mind kept circling but always came to the same conclusion. Maybe he should never get on stage with Mix again. He wouldn't want to ruin Mix's reputation.

He could picture Mix, sitting at home, a lonely bottle of wine on the table, a lonely glass in hand, brooding into the red-tinged liquid about his poor performance.

Images of young Earth crying in a corner after sharing his first story with the class streaked through his imagination. He knew exactly how it felt to give to an audience and perceive ridicule in return. He never wanted to feel that again.

Earth deflated in his office chair. It seemed like there was a hot, slightly uncomfortable spotlight shining on his face.

Would Mix be feeling something similar right now?

He glanced at the clock—seven p.m. "Okay, Earth, you can do this. You only have one hour before going back over to Mix's. Let's get some writing done. He focused on the computer screen again and all the letters were back in their proper places as words, sentences, and paragraphs of his story.

"Chapter 7" was solidly at the top of the screen with several paragraphs written below.

Actually, how was he only on seven? What was he doing the last few months? The answer was obvious, "Mix."

Still, he needed to focus. If he was going to have half this book written in five weeks, he would have to seriously marry his keyboard. He wondered how surprised Jane was going to be at the content. He still hadn't worked up the courage to tell her about his new adventure. What if she said no?

She always asked about the plot. Would he be doing another vampire series? She thought maybe it was time to try something different. After all, he'd been with Julien and his journey for eight books now. During their last phone conversation, she said, "Maybe he should try werewolves? That would be new. Plus, werewolves are hot right now."

That was his opening, still, he froze and deflected to a different topic. Chapter seven and only twelve thousand words in. He needed at least triple that to be at the halfway point! "Uggh, you need to focus."

He tried to zero in on the screen again, but the words were still hopping around like jumping beans. What was he going to do? He didn't want to disappoint Mix.