American Psycho

Ch. 6

Mirai had her back leaning against the back bed board, her knees bent and her laptop sitting on them. She had changed into a pair of jeans and a navy blue, short sleeve t-shirt, her hair still down and pushed behind her ears. She was starting to write the first chapter of the book, and so far, it started with the main character, whom she named Charlotte, getting off the plane.

RJ passed by, taking a glance before taking a step back to stand in the doorway. He looked her up and down as if inspecting a new species. Mirai caught this, and looked in his direction. RJ quickly put on a small smile. "Hey."

"Hey." Mirai returned the smile before going back to typing.

"Writing, are we?" RJ asked curiously, leaning against the door frame.

"Oh, yeah." Mirai nodded as she glanced from her computer screen to the man. "I'm barley on the first chapter."

"What is it about?"

"Its a- its a romantic comedy. I don't really have a, um, plot yet." Of course, she was lying. This was far from a romantic comedy and she had a general plot. She didn't want him getting the wrong idea. Would it be bad for Mirai not telling RJ of her book? After getting it published, he'd realize that this was not the direction she was headed in. Would this make RJ think less of her?

"That does put a damper on our relationship..."  Oh, Westley, if you only knew.

"Hope it gets on the shelves." RJ smiled and went on to main living area.

"Please understand that I hold you in the highest respect."- And I'm actually writing about you. That was the best way she could add to that sentence. Still, would RJ think less of her if she was writing about a man, similar to him, only more insane? Take Thomas Jefferson and put him in RJ's place, then on the other side of the scale, take Norman Bates and place him in the spot the psycho Mirai would create would be. People take offense when others see them as a psychopathic killer. If you described Washington as Michael Myers, he would take total offense about you making the assumption that, since he wielded an axe as a child, that he should be put into the insane asylum. That scene at the end of The Silence of the Lambs where Hannibal ripped the nose off a guard who clearly didn't have a liking to the psycho in the first place came to mind. If Washington some how was a horror fan, though, he would be delighted that you made those connections.

When Mirai thought about, it would not only be RJ who would be upset, it would be the whole state of West Virginia with bits of pieces from Kentucky. How many people would call her and demand that she change everything, change the whole story of a book that had been done hundreds of times before? It would devastating to her to have worked on something for months and pull it right back off the shelves. Any author would be dying if they ever had to do that; it was playing Russian Roulette. Click. Click. Click. Bang. At least there was the way she wanted to die in the "game".

~

"Oh well, I'm the type of guy who will never settle down,
Where pretty girls are, well, you know that I'm around.
I kiss' em and I  love 'em, 'cause to me, they're all the same.
I hug 'em and I squeeze 'em , they don't even know my name."

Mirai had her headphones on, feet hanging over the edge of the bed, gentle kicking.

"They call me the wanderer,
Yeah, the wanderer,
I roam around, around, around."

Mirai hummed to the wanderer around, shaking her head from side to side as the beat whet bum-bum buma-bum. It was like being a kid in Texas again, but the whole atmosphere was moist and humid, and overall green. Green curves of land that sometimes went straight up and down. When one was in Texas, one was fairly closer to the Gulf of Mexico and the sea just beside California, and you were evenly placed between the east and west coast.

Charlotte walked around the quaint airport, smelling the musky air filled with more water than the Atlantic Ocean. The trees were tall and stood their ground, the leaves from falls from years ago covering the land like a-

"Son of a bitch!"

Mirai's eyes quickly went up at the sound of that. She pushed the headphones off before she heard groans of pain. She pushed her laptop to the side of the bed and started out the door and into the kitchen. RJ was standing with one knee bent -his foot towards his body- hopping with the other leg as he looked down at the cast iron pot and the stainless steel one that laid beside it.

"Are you okay?" Mirai asked quickly, taking a few quick steps towards the man. It came out more like Are ya oh-key?

"Yeah." Another groan of pain and another hop. "I'm just lucky that the cast iron didn't fall on it." When she looked inside the stainless steel pot, she noted that this one was a little thicker.

"I'd say." Mirai let out a small laugh.