Work Text:
BAZ
“I give up!” Simon says abruptly. He shuts his laptop with finality and propels his swivel chair away from his desk with his feet, holding his hands out in an “I surrender” motion.
“I’m feeling that way too. If I have to look at these lyrics any longer, I’m going to lose it,” I tell him, shutting my laptop in a similar manner. It’s the curse of having a shared office—sometimes it feels like my productivity depends entirely on Simon’s. “What are you stuck on?”
Simon sighs. “I’m nearly finished with the whole thing, but I feel like I can’t finish it.”
I nod, understanding. With us both being creatives—Simon a children’s book author and illustrator and me a musician, we spend a lot of time with at least one of us in some kind of writer’s block.
“If I could just come up with a title,” Simon continues. “I feel like the rest of it would fall into place.”
“I thought it was called Dragon Boy?”
Simon groans. “No, that’s stupid. That’s only my working title. I can’t publish it with that name.”
“I’m feeling that way with this album,” I say, giving all the way up and getting out of my seat. “I have no idea what to call it.”
Simon tilts his chin to look up at me as I move towards him. “I thought you were going to call it Fangs.”
“That was also just a tentative title.”
“Ugh,” Simon groans. “Why are titles so hard?”
Grabbing Simon’s hand, I pull him up and out of his chair. “Come on, let’s go on a walk. It’s time for a break.”
He groans, but agrees, and before long, both of us are standing out in the sun. Going on walks doesn’t always help, but it feels more useful than bemoaning in the office.
It’s been a rough couple of weeks, with Simon finishing the final touches on this latest book and me agonising over this album. It’ll be my debut, but a decent number of people have enjoyed my singles and I don’t want to disappoint.
“Walk me through your story again,” I say, even though I’ve heard it a million times. “Maybe you’ll get a bright title idea.”
“So there’s this boy who’s part dragon—”
“You.”
“Shut up, I’m not part-dragon.”
“But the boy’s you,” I tease.
“Shut up,” Simon says good-naturedly. “Anyway, the dragon boy meets this vampire who’s afraid of anyone seeing his fangs and—”
“And the vampire’s me,” I interrupt.
“I wish you were a vampire,” Simon laughs. “Anyways, the dragon boy convinces the vampire to give himself a chance, and then the vampire teaches the dragon boy to fly.”
“Like me and you.”
“I don’t know where you’re getting this from,” Simon says, a glimmer in his eyes. “Obviously dragon boy and the vampire are fictional characters and any resemblances to any other persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.”
“Sure,” I say, but I know better than that. Simon’s storybook is exceptionally personal this time, even if the whole thing is cloaked in metaphor and fantastical settings. I’m the vampire who’s scared of anyone seeing the real, rotten parts of me, and Simon’s the dragon boy who needed to learn how to fly.
“Tell me about your album again,” Simon asks.
“It’s about you,” I say, because I don’t bother denying it like Simon does. “I’m just figuring out the last couple songs, and I don’t feel like the name fits the lyrics. Like, sure, the edgy name Fangs fits the sound, but the lyrics are…”
“Sweet,” Simon finishes.
“Exactly.”
A moment of silence passes as we continue our walk. Finding a perfect album title is starting to feel impossible, I’ll probably have to settle for something average and spend the rest of my life regretting it.
“Oh!” Simon shouts, stopping his walk suddenly.
“What?” I stop too and turn to face him.
“What if we swapped?” he says. “I call my book Fangs and you call your album Dragon Boy.”
My jaw drops.
Simon continues excitedly. “Because my book is more about the parts of you that you don’t understand or want to hide—like the dragon’s flight or the vampire fangs, and your album is about…”
“You,” I say, smiling. “And you’re Dragon Boy.”
“Yeah.” Simon’s voice is suddenly soft, then he gets nervous and scratches the back of his neck. “Er, but if you want to keep your album name, I won’t take it. It’s just an idea—”
“No!” I grab Simon’s hand. “We should switch. It’s perfect.”
“Really? You’re serious?”
“Of course I am, Dragon Boy.”