Chapter Text
Since the majority of her night was spent mentally composing a message to Grey that would give him some kind of accurate scope for how much she wrote in a day, none of Amelia’s classwork was prepared and she hadn’t slept a wink. A perfect answer to give her admirer but being loopy from lack of sleep and ignoring her other priorities; such was the tightrope Amelia made herself walk. Naturally, she had no safety net, because Phil’s influence could usually rescue her from any kind of predicament. But her father had no idea about her always-on-the-uptick double life. And Amelia would keep it that way as long as she would be able to.
Maybe a quarter to half a day? I know that seems like a lot, but I physically develop symptoms if I don’t get what’s in my head down on paper. Damn! She hadn’t meant to reveal that funny little detail to someone she barely knew. But maybe luck would be on her side for once; maybe this would be a small infatuation and no one would ever have to know about her odd ailment.
Satisfied with her note to Grey, she flopped backward onto her custom-made, top-of-the-line mattress Phil had asked to have specially made for her. It was purple, of course, like all of the most important things in her life.
She needed a mental day. Too many new developments had come about in a very short period and she needed adequate time to process everything. For Amelia, a mental day often involved nothing but writing, occasionally taking a break to watch godawful reality shows or to spy on her neighbors. To prep, Amelia tied her hair back into a loose bun and put her favorite pair of sweatpants on. She could already feel the tangled wires of anxiety unraveling as she performed her pre-writing rituals. Mental days required a lot of extra preparation, but almost always resulted in some of her best writing.
A nap could also quite possibly be squeezed in somewhere in there.
Grabbing her favorite drink in her favorite cup, the 64-ounce bottle only needed to be refilled once a day and was so easy to use, and settled down at her laptop, pulling out her bound notebook from its resting place in her backpack. She maneuvered the book carefully, worried her favorite bedraggled bookmark was about to breathe its last. Thankfully, it made it to her desk unscathed. Amelia pulled the pages open to where her bookmark lay, and powered up her laptop. She could add more to her story once she checked for any new comments. If there was one thing Amelia held sacred as a fic writer, it was a point of pride that she replied to all comments, good or bad.
She was tickled pink to see her loyal follower, HeartOfStone4, had left a new comment on the short drabble she posted yesterday:
HeartOfStone4: Your characterization is beyond compare. They pop off the screen and I feel like they could be real-life friends of mine. Will you update this? Please do more with them!
Amelia’s heart skipped a beat. This was the highest and most sought-after brand of praise, and she received it on the regular. Internet praise and fame didn’t add up to much in reality, but Amelia told herself to revel in it now, because once she took over for her father, her fanfic days would likely be over.
She stretched her arms over her head, lacing her fingers together and cracking her knuckles. HOS4 was a delight to chat with, so perhaps she would fulfill his request of more.
PurplePrincessTesla: Thank you for your kind words! : D That is the highest compliment I could ever receive! Since you’ve asked so nicely, I think I will do some more with them! Thank you for continuing to read, comment, and subscribe! PPT
Amelia knew she didn’t need to sign her comments, but it made her feel more professional.
Alright, first order of business: continue the multi-chapter fic of Lina and Gourry, and try to squeeze in a one (or two) shot about Martina and Zangulus. Once again, she broke the golden rule of fanfiction, but she just couldn’t resist; the pair, very much supposedly in love, according to Martina, fought like mongooses and snakes. It was beyond comical, and Amelia’s readers ate their interactions up.
Amelia cracked her knuckles, heaving a sigh of relaxation and stretching her legs out under her desk. This mental day was already incredibly beneficial, and it had only barely just begun.