Marionette

Chapter 5: The Antagonist

     "Hey. Don't diss Stephanie Meyer," I said, "She's rich."

     "Technically you dissed her."

     "Shut up."

     "Why should I?" asked Posy, "I'd better talk as much as I can before you quit writing my story and I can never ever say another word ever again for the rest of my life."

      "Shut. Up."

     "Hey, are you crazy for writing conversations like this? Because technically, you're just talking to yourself but on paper. Did you diss Stephanie Meyer or defend her? How much

–––

     The doorbell rang and Posy went to get it. On the other side was a handsome young man about her age who was a famous rockstar Posy had seen around, but not one she particularly cared for. However, as she gazed upon his –– oh my god I can't. This is so stupid. "Then write better you nut!" –– green eyes and winning smile, she thought he was rather handsome.

     "Hey," he said with all the cliché movie star swagger of a frickin' movie star. "I'm the Wilson's son, from next door? My mom told me to come introduce myself."

     "Hey, I'm Posy," she said, offering a hand to shake. "What was your name?"

     "Don't you already know?" he asked, taking her hand. "It's all over posters in shopping malls across the country."

     "I don't shop in shopping malls," Posy said, wondering if maybe he was only coming off as a douche because the stupid writer was trying to stall while she came up with a name for this dashing rockstar-who-looked-like-a-movie-star.

     "You don't shop in shopping malls?" he said, still shaking her hand. Yep. The writer was most definitely stalling. What about John? Posy wondered, trying to help the writer out so she could stop shaking this dude's hand. Too simple. Winaugusconey? Too complicated? Was that even a name?

     "I'm Gus," he said.

     "Seriously?" 

     Posy meant to think it to me, but she accidentally said it with quotation marks.

     "Short for Winaugusconey."

     Ooooof course it was.

     "And this is my brother Mac."

     Another boy came up from behind him. They looked similar, but different. Twins, but Gus was a rockstar and Mac looked like a prep.

     "Short for Maconaquea," Mac said, shaking Posy's hand after Gus had finally let go of it.

     "Posy," Posy said.

     "Funny name," Mac said.

     Posy raised her eyebrows. "Thanks?"

     "You have nice eyes," said Gus, taking back Posy's attention.

     Posy smiled. "Thank you, Gus!"

     "And a lovely smile," Mac added quickly.

     "Thank you, too, Mac! Just give me one second..."

     Posy poked her head around the front door and whisper-yelled, "Jamie!"

     Then she smiled before stepping aside for her brother to take over. 

–––

     "TWINS?!"

     "You're upset," I observed.

     "Heck yeah, I'm upset!" Posy said. "I was supposed to meet my one true love! My soul mate!"

     I rolled my eyes. "Why don't you just say hell like the rest of us?"

     Posy crossed her arms and pouted. "I'm saving it for the climax to give it more meaning."

     "Right," I muttered under my breath as I turned back to my laptop.

     "Don't put me back in yet!" Posy yelled, "I'm not done with you. Why didn't you just let me meet my soulmate like we agreed?"

     "You said to fast forward to the part when things get interesting," I told her. "That was it. You've met your soulmate. You just don't know which one he is. Figure it out and you get to live happily ever after."

     Posy was quiet for a moment, her brow furrowed while she thought.

     "I'll just end up with my soul mate, won't I? No matter what I do, I'll just end up with him. So I won't do anything. There's no stopping fate."

     "Yeah?" I raised an eyebrow at her theory. "Well fate says if you don't do anything, I'll get bored. And if I get bored, I'll stop writing your story. Then you'll never reach your happy ending. How's that for conflict?"

     Posy stared at me with her big brown eyes. "Are you setting yourself up as the antagonist?"

     "Hmm," I tilted my head and thought about it. "That makes a lot of sense, actually. I make my characters' lives miserable, I've killed as many as I've erased...yeah. I'm the antagonist. Not only of this story, but of all my stories. Maybe writing is the only socially acceptable way for me to deal with my sadistic tendencies."

     There was silence for a minute while Posy realized the power I held over her and countless other fictional characters. She realized how easily I could make it so that she never existed.

     "I'm probably going to end up with Gus the Rockstar," she said, her voice wavering as if near the edge of a cliff. "He's famous so it's a higher resolution for the end of the story."

     "Fame and fortune don't make a soul mate," I told her. "But now that you mention it, who's your favourite poet, Posy?"

     "What does that have to do with fame and fortune?"

     I frowned. "Just name the poet."

     Posy gave me a look. "Atticus Jordan."

     "Atticus Jordan is Maconaquea Wilson's pen name."

     I smiled as Posy gasped. "Mac is the famous poet I've admired for years?"

     "It's his brooding secret."

     "I said no spoilers!"

     "Surprise," I said, amused at her worry. "One boy is a famous rockstar and the other is a renowned writer. Now which one's the higher resolution to the story?"

     Posy shook her head at me.

     "You're evil," she stage-whispered.

     "Good." I told her, "Evil keeps things interesting."