For The Plot

1

I recovered from my third-degree burns while I strolled into my mini sitting room. My feet hung off the end of my two-seater sofa. Calling this a two-seater is really false advertising, but the sage colour is cute and matched my apartment's aesthetic so obviously I bullied myself into buying it. It's not like I've got anyone to share it with anyways.

God, Lowe, that sounded terribly melancholy.
I am totally content with my relationship status being single, I swear. I've had enough shit men in the last four years of my life, and I most definitely do not need another anytime soon. I've dramatically flipped my life. Onwards and upwards, here we go.

I pulled my laptop onto my knees and scrolled through my feed. I tried reading today's weather and the news but my eyes flicked to the stack of papers on the mini coffee table in front of me.

One last proofread wouldn't hurt, right?

Fuck it.

I placed down my laptop and picked up the stack, running my fingers over the front of my manuscript, rereading my name. That is how you spell my name, isn't it?
I sounded out the letter to my name, overthinking this way too much. L, O, W, E, N. Lowen.

"Lowen." I said out loud, realising I'll have to introduce myself. "Hi, I'm Lowen. No- fuck. Hello there, my name is Lowen Pierce. What the hell, Lowe?" You think I'd be good at this by now, but no.

I was stressing and slightly panicking when my phone rang.
"Thank god you called." I whined, answering the FaceTime.

"Your morning's going well then?" Jessica yawned into the phone. Her maroon hair surrounded her head as she sprawled across her bed. Morning FaceTimes are one of the few times I see Jessica without her bold lipstick and eyeliner.

"Jess, are you sure I have enough here? It makes no sense and I have no title-"

"L, breathe. It's like six a.m. Your story's perfect. I've read it like- seven times. Not one fault. They'll love it and sign you on the spot." Her voice was croaky and I could clearly see her rolling her eyes on the other end of the line.

"You think?" I groaned.

"I know."

"Ugh, I love you- wait, what time is it?"

"Six-"

"Fuck! Gotta go, I'll text you!"

"B-"
I hung up the phone and tossed it onto the sofa. I should be out of the shower and dressed by now - I cannot be late.

"Alexa! Turn up the volume!" I downed half my practically cold coffee and left the dirty mug in my sink to wash later.

The loud music just made me panic more as I rushed to my wardrobe. Thank god I pre-planned this outfit.

My perfectly neat bathroom was destroyed while I grabbed my toothbrush, attempting to multitask using the toilet and brushing my teeth and the same time.

My impulsive shower last night turned out to be helpful, and I slicked my light brown hair back into a low ponytail, trying to look like a professional author instead of a young singer who wrote a book instead of going to therapy. Partially because I couldn't form the words out loud, and partially because therapy is expensive and a pen and notepad costs like three dollars.

My makeup brushes danced across my face and I tried to keep my makeup minimalist but I look like a child without a bit of mascara and dark nude lipstick.

I checked my watch that read six-thirty-two while I hurriedly ran back into my bedroom, stripping off my pyjamas and finding out my favourite underwear.