Author's Note: I know this first chapter is insanely short, but bear with me. This was just something I thought of when I was on the plane (see what the altitude can do to a person?) and it's really just me...experimenting and messing around with some stuff (you'll see what I mean in the next chapter- which is half done, btw) but as always I'd love to know what you guys think of it. It won't be long- about five or six chapters max. Anyway, please send me some con crit and on with the show!
Marc writes everything down, or so I've notived since moving in three months ago. He's just always writing. -Okay, I guess that's not completely surprising, since he is an aspiring novelist after all. He's published two books so far- both a collection of short stories. He still insists that he's an 'aspiring' writer despite this, since he claims that he isn't a 'real' writer until he has published a full-length novel. He's coming along well though- he let's me read snippets of it sometimes, but only if he's unsure about it. I think that sometimes he needs me to tell him it's good, just to give him the confidence to keep going. I guess every writer, even the brilliant ones, need reassurance sometimes; a token of acknowledgement and praise for their hard work. I never just blindly praise Marc though- he'd kill me if he ever thought I wasn't telling the truth about his writing. I once told him that the snippet he read me sucked, just flat-out sucked. He didn't take it too well- he gave me the cold shoulder for an entire day. But he did climb into bed next to me that night to tell me he was sorry for acting like a brat, and that he loved my honesty. And he scrapped that snippet.
I found this notebook the other day though. It looks pretty old, but I'm not sure if it really is or if that's just because of where it was kept. It fell out from under the mattress when I was changing the sheets- I don't know how I never found it before. For a moment I actually thought that Marc was hiding porn or something, but then I looked at it and realised it wasn't. Either way, it looked as though it had been untouched for a while. When I opened it, the first page was filled with Marc's neat but hurried scrawl. Sometimes I think his thoughts run faster than his hand can keep up with. There were no dates anywhere, so it couldn't have been a journal. -Why hadn't he said anything about this to me? He always told me about the projects he was working on... As the initial feeling of hurt diminished, curiosity began to nibble at me. Why was Marc hiding this?
I probably shouldn't have read any of it, but it was right there in my hands. Temptation. Perhaps it wasn't even anything interesting of important at all. But of course, I wouldn't know that unless I read it, or at least just a little bit... After all, Marc probably wouldn't even know if I had read it or not. He's probably forgotten all about this book, what with it collecting dust under the mattress. Perhaps it was time for just a quick flick through it...
The first page seemed to have a title of sorts on the top. 'The Closeted', whatever that might mean. I let my eyes scan down to the next line, where I began to read...