"Anna!
Come quick! You’re on the news again!” The small brunette that once had her
hair long and loose with the tips curled became a grown up adult. Her hair was
shorter, she had bangs and her green eyes looked even bigger because of the eye liner She wasn't any more some girl who was searching for a reason to live.
She had found it.
“Huh.
Who would have thought some shitty book will get so much attention…” She placed
her head on one hand while the other held the remote. Her flat mate, Rosie,
seemed offended by her friend’s words.
“Shitty?
It’s brilliant! The best you came up with! The story is so romantic! Who would
have thought that one day with some stranger would turn up to become a love
story! It’s beautiful.” Anna watched her friend quietly. She never told anyone
from where she got the idea. She simply wrote it down and in no time, it became
a box office success in Europe and Asia.
“You
know, I've written other books too…Why don’t you praise them like this?” She
mumbled loud enough for her friend to hear. Rosie scoffed and jumped on the
couch, next to Anna.
“Because
it doesn't have the same feeling to it. You wrote before about death and about
depression. This is about pure love! From where did you even get this idea?
Lovers in Tokyo…” Anna chuckled and placed her feet close to her chest. No one
could stop the small smile forming on her lips. Not even the last four years of
loneliness.
“I
lived it.” Rosie widened her eyes and opened her mouth. “I met him four years
ago, right before entering my last year of college. It was just one day and one
man that changed my world. So, I choose to change others’ worlds too by writing
about it.” Rosie nodded.
“What
about the ending?” Anna started to laugh loudly, giving Rosie the bitter feelings
she felt through the years.
“There’s
no ending. I created one. The man I met wasn't one that could've been kept into
one place. He was someone who simply went after the wind.” After the last
sentence, she walked into her room, leaving a melancholic Rosie behind.
Behind
the closed doors of her room, Anna walked to her desk and opened the second
drawer. She grabbed a picture which seemed to have been torn from a newspaper
and stared at it. It sent bitter sweet feelings through her heart which were shown
through a frown.
A
few hours later, when it was seemingly getting dark, Anna found herself stuck
with her fellow friends who were also artists, into a noisy pub. Rosie was the
one who gathered everyone at the table so she could tell the big news to everyone.
The brunette wasn't too happy with the location but she did enjoy the time with
her mates.
“So,”
She started but the noise was covering her tiny, female voice. She rolled her
eyes and grunted. “I said ,SO!’” She
yelled. The whole room got silent and every pair of eyes turned to her. The
scowl she previously had transformed magically into a sweet smile. “I have some
big news regarding our brilliant friend, Anna!”
“Are
you getting married?” One of the boys asked the culprit, frowning.
Anna
gulped down her drink, already fed up with the surreal attention she was
getting. That didn't stop the stares, making her drink even faster.
“Idiots.
It’s about the book. It reached the American box office too! Aren't you happy?”
Everyone groaned. “That means we get paid more.” The whole table started to
cheer. While Rosie went back to her seat, Anna glared at her.
“Who’s
more caught up into this story? The writer or the reader?” The blonde smiled
sweetly and patter her friend’s thigh.
“If
you ever meet him again, thank me.” She whispered before entering a fiery
conversation between the people on the table. Anna rolled her eyes but couldn't agree with her. It wasn't meant to be so that, logically, meant they will never
meet again.
On
the path back home, the blonde was so drunk that she couldn't walk at least one
meter without tripping over her own feet. The older woman couldn't say she was
fed up with her friend’s behaviour because she already got accustomed with her
personality, which hadn't been easy. London was famous for the rainy weather
and that night didn't make an exception. The fortunate fact was that the two
girls were really close to the apartment.
Inside
the elevator, Rosie started to talk nonsense while Anna was furiously pushing
the 6th floor’s button. She was calm but inside, she was sure she
would have killed the younger woman and makes it look like a suicide. She was a
good sadistic writer, she could even use one of her many stories to cover the
crime. Even she was surprised when, after 3 years since the incident, she wrote
it down like it happened yesterday. She sighed and rubbed her forehead. The consummation
of alcohol started to take a tool on her head too.
“Lover
in Tokyo, huh?” Even worse was when Rosie decided to make her feel miserable.
After a funny hiccup and a few slurred words that she couldn't understand, she
grabbed the blonde’s hand and walked out of the elevator and inside their
apartment, having a few problems with getting the keys. On one hand she had
Rosie and on the other she had her purse and a few more groceries.
After
Rosie had been tucked in her bed safely, Anna walked into the kitchen, not
sleepy yet. She changed into a loose shirt and long pyjama pants and, on her
way to making tea, she also turned on the TV. While waiting for the water to
heat up, she heard another show where her book was praised.
“It’s
not like I've wrote it now. It’s been out for a year now…” She mumbled while
changing the channel. It was indeed a mystery how no one had ever heard about
her in a year and, one day, out of nowhere, thousands of reporters appeared in
front of her door.
She
grabbed her favourite cup, which was bought from Japan, and poured the sweet tea
inside. The steam rising from the hotness of the water seemed to get Anna into
a melancholic state. She sighed hard, like she just left her soul out, and
walked towards the TV. She sat on the couch and cuddled into the softness of
it, the cup held tightly in her hands.
The program was boring, nothing seemed to get old but nothing new
appeared. It was like a vicious cycle. Everything on the television was
bullshit and she knew that. It was all too faked and covered: old stories,
arranged so that they would look new. It was overwhelming.
In that moment I realized what he meant. I was
getting miserable, bored of everything. I did go with the flow and ended up
back in England, with a University finished in management and business but I
became a writer. I really didn’t know what reason I could find to live happily.
What was happiness? I started to ask myself. I wanted to get the easy way out
but that path was definitely not in Europe.
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