Cyrus' big red grandfather clock clicked when the hands stopped at 2 AM. I sighed. As always, the expected moonlight sonata played like a background music of some horror flick. The heavy downpour on the other side of the glass window was growing steadfastly. Some of the moisture was invading inside because two of the panes were opened. The silk curtains were flying like ghosts riding on the playful wind.
Refusing to acknowledge the creepiness of my surroundings, I darted back my gaze to the blinking cursor.
Type. Type.
My article for the next day needs a little more embellishments before I consider it ready for printing. I tapped the space bar and delete keys interchangeably. Hmmm....
C'mon, brain cells..don't snooze.
The moisture dense wind blew on my face. Crap, I can't defy the goosebumps flourishing on my flesh anymore. So I got on my feet. The window creeked when I closed it. Suddenly, I head a thud issueing from the corridor leading to the south wing. Moonlight saturated the alley faintly. Weird, I thought. There's a blizzard outside but the moon was casting luminosity at the same time.
I picked up my laptop and settled back on the couch. I forced my train of thoughts to stop by where I was before the creepy interruption.
Then I heard it... Footfalls, getting closer and closer. I gritt my teeth before slowly turning towards the direction of the sound.
I held my breath, clenched my fist. There it goes... My eyes could not betray me as I took in the sight of a dark figure emerging from the corridor, coming to my direction. I deduced that it was walking; a man..
His head was down, his body trudging on little steps. The sky outside thundered violently.
I clung like a maniac to my laptop. No point screaming coz no one will likely hear me. But if he dares to cross within 2 meter radius, I'll knock him over till he passes out. But, do ghosts get concussions? I don't freaking care! A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do...
But when the 'ghost' reached the threshold of the sitting room, and I had my A and B strategies all planned out, I was surprised when he fell on the 3-step ladder.
Clumsy ghost, I thought dully. Then, I heard it groan. Sense dawned on me so I turned on the light switch.
Crap. I recognized the grey clint eastwood shirt worn by the 'ghost' by the name of-
"Mel." I called him. Of course, he's snoring his signature snore; the type that can scare the hell out of you cause you'd think his airway is obstructed by something huge.
I seized him by his armpits and pulled him to the carpet. After which, I placed one of the throwpillows under his head.
Stupid of me to even think of ghosts. Like I dunno for years that Mel sleepwalks. Among the allnighters, I'm the queen bee, the undisputed no-sleep champion with eyebags for trophies. My work demands for lenghty reading not possible for mankind, so Kristel says. She's my business partner in Gray Matters, our very own preppy book cafe. Though employed full-time at the New York Times, I do my share on the supervisory work for Gray Matters. Me and Kristel love it to bits. We have a common passion for books ever since time immemorial. When we were able to accumulate enough funds, we ventured to put up a cafe for students where they are able to enjoy a wide selection of books, mags, newspapers, journals while munching gastronomic treats. As predicted, the collegiates loved the idea. Thanks to them, Grey Matters became the hubhub for studying slash snacking.
"Argumentum ad miserecordiam.." Mel uttered like he's reminding me of his presence. He stirred.
Whatever he says when he's concious, I reckon Mel has pent up thoughts that keep on running through his mind after court hearings. He's got regrets that he's never gonna mention.
I rolled my eyes and held my laptop with full determination to finish my article.
"Sorry." Mel muttered. It was barely a whisper but it was audible enough. A smile crept on my lips.
"You've got mail." June showed up in her pajamas hours later, envelopes at hand.
"Morning." I greeted before accepting my post.
June sat beside me on the couch. She threw a pillow on Mel's face. He didn't budge.
"Sleeping beauty's still hasn't got kissed?" she mocked.
"Na-ah. The way he snores? That's definitely Dumbo." I contradicted.
"Good point." she agreed. "Hasn't Mel got medical advice on this? It could be a major sleeping or breathing disorder, I dunno."
"We've tried a gazillion times. You know Rob even showed him the surveillance camera on what he does during the night. He denied the whole thing and won't hear a word about it." I reminded June
"So we're just gonna go on pretending we don't see him sleepwalk almost every night or hear his life-threatening snores?"
"Hate to say it but, yep." I answered. I flipped the envelope to have any idea from whom it was. Upon seeing the official-looking crest, I blinked. June was talking but I couldn't understand any ot it. Gripped by excitement, I hurriedly tore the envelope and scanned the paper inside.
"NO, EFFIN' WAY!" I burst out, which sent June jumping jerkily on the couch and 'sleeping beauty' waking groggily.
"Whazgoinon?" Mel squinted all around.
"I got it! I freakin got it!!!!!!!!!!!!" I shouted at the top of my lungs as I danced on top of the couch.
"Got what?"
"Zero cavities?" Mel said disinterestedly. He was clearly sulky because I ruined his sleep.
"Go kill yourself, and then take a look at this!" I pointed at the paper.
June read. After half a minute, her jaw dropped and her lips formed a big O.
"Oh my Gosh! You got the movie script for Wuthering Heights?" she mirrored my amazement.
“Say it again!” I begged her.
“YOU WINGED THE SCRIPT FOR WUTHERING HEIGHTS!” she screamed. We both let out a scream before hugging and bouncing up and down.
“What can I say? Congratulations!” June said.
“You can try-Welcome to hollywood!” I told her.
"Unbelievable!" June exclaimed.
"Morning glory?" Jitka barged in, wiping her face with a towel.
"Glory to the house of 125. Someone's climbing her way to fame." June cried dramatically.
"Another rockstar is born?" Jitka guessed. She seems to be thinking about Mike and what's gonna happen if another rocker bangs the walls at night.
"Not another Mike. Ember's to Tinseltown..." June added.
"Whoa! Didn't know you've got an acting career." Jitka said, confused.
"Heavens, no. I can't cry at will to save my soul. I get to write the script!" I finally explained.
"OH!Wow. Congratulations! That is great news." Jitka approved.
"Its crazy!" was all I said. "Wait, I gotta go arrange things with Kristel. I gotta leave first flight to Cali tomorrow."
"Who's going to Cali?" Issa came in.
"Me, Iz."
"Great!I'm coming with you. We can crash at Wilshire. I just called Jiesta and Lyca saying I'll come over." Issa said.
"Perfect. Gotta go to Gray Matters first.." I started to walk towards my room.
"Wrong. Hit the shower first, will you?" June called out.
"Will do, boss." I winked at her.
"Running out of Dan Brown again. He's gonna have an autograph signing at the university this week. We're selling Lost Symbol like hotcakes and I've been bugging the publishing house every 2 minutes coz the kids are driving me crazy," Kristel reported. The land line rung. She picked it up. "Gray matters. Sorry Jed. No news yet. Look, I promise I'll call you when the delivery truck shows up.
"You sure you're okay about me leaving tomorrow?" I asked tentatively.
"Hey, you are not gonna make me an excuse so you can worm out of this sitch, Girl. Spill, you scared?" she shot at me.
"Scared as you." I said sardonically.
"Excuse me. I quit my scriptwriting career coz its not what I really wanna do." Kristel pointed out.
"Yeah. You wanna haggle with kids and overdose them with caffeine."
"They love my latte, my sundaes, my frothe. That's how college ruins their life. Not my fault if they seem to wanna experiment on maximum human wakefulness. Like someone I know..." she said coyly. " And besides, I can't complain. Those caffeine junkies just gave me an early birthday present."
Before I can fully understand what she was talking about, Kristel quickly fiddled through the counter and showed me a familiar piece of paper.
"Seriously now?" I exclaimed.
"You really doubted we could actually do it, huh?" she said smugly. " Be back next week. I need a hand to set up the opening. I've phoned Gierin and she'll be around to help me decorate, get stuffs for the ribbon cutting. I'm thinking of carnations, really tall lilies, edible flowers, chocolate fountain's good too... "
She was beaming as she discussed animatedly. I saw work fulfillment flickering in her eyes. Envy spurned in my chest again, seeing Kristel look like she won the lottery. Sure, I'm thrilled that Gray Matters is gonna have a new branch. We've been working on it for three months. The business is a part of me as much as its part of her. But the buts are too nagging to ignore.
Right after college, we signed up for freelance script writers for Dreamworks. In truth, it was me who was brimming with furious enthusiasm to go Hollywood and make a name for myself. It was pretty easy convincing Kristel to come live with me at Wilshire, Sta. Monica since she still didn't have concrete plans. Our first project was a major motion picture. We toiled day and night, astounded of our beginner's luck and aching to prove ourselves worthy of the big break. The movie was a hit. Everything was pristine and it was predicted surefire that we're steadily on our way to the top. The movie reviews branded us killer neophytes.Our work even got us an Oscar's nomination.
The feeling was surreal. A 3d dream that sprung to life.
One television interview was all it took to corrupt my spotlight. One short question, " How are you related to Chloe Prince?"
"She's my sister."
"Ow, wow. That explains!"
The reviews that followed focused more on the comparison between my work and Chloe's. She's been writing scripts for five years, before she even left Harvard. On her third year, her first book was published. It sold out 5 million copies in one year.
Lord knows I had no jealous bone in my body. But I admit, it was hard being Chloe's sister. Being overshadowed was an occupational hazard I could have thankfully lived without. My academic achievements always came short compared to hers. It was a breather for me when I finally went to Princeton for college. Princeton opened up numerous doors for me. I felt like I was able to finally stretch out and spread out into the world of writing without my sister's name being tagged along every award I covet. Years after, our roads crossed again in Pasadena when I ran into her. This was a week after the premier night. She was writing for a movie that same year.
My sister won the Oscar's.
I embraced her, was genuinely happy for her when she made her speech. But when the after party was over, I laid in my bed and thought - second place again......
It felt like all my courage was sucked up into the drain.
Three days later, I got a call from the New York Times. Kristel and I moved out of Wilshire and flew to New York City that very same day.
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