And then, because she knows I don’t believe her right now…
“FacFicQueen24 says,‘BarrettBeyondTheBadge gives Barrett more chemistry in one chapter than in Evan Michaels' entire series. #SorryNotSorry’.”
I smile at this one.
“Okay, what’s another?” I ask, my ego now intrigued.
Mal hops up on the small counter tucked in between the kitchen sink and the refrigerator. She crosses her legs, her finger lightly flicking against the phone screen until her smile stretches acrossher cheeks and her eyes grow wide. “You’re going to love this one! DropDeadReadersays, ‘BarrettBeyondTheBadge writes Barrett like she actually loves him. Can’t say the same for the author.’Oh! And this one—LilyLovesLit says,‘Reading this version of Barrett is like finally seeing in color after living in black and white’.”
Evan Michaels is a literary phenomenon. His name is paired with the coveted wordsNew York Times Best Seller. But those words aren’t just a title—they are the truth. His books have sold millions, and he’s managed to write thirteen in the series in the last seven years. He’s an inspiration.
My inspiration.
I want to know him. I want to see what he did to make dreams come true.
But the man is impossible to get to know. He doesn’t have a social media account on any platform. His interviews are short and impersonal. Even his Wikipedia seems like a house staged to sell, other people writing things that make him look good, trying to sell the internet on Evan as a successful author, not as a person you really know. His personal life is as mysterious as the beginning of each of his books.
Even though my sleuthing skills failed me, my obsession with him had only grown.
I began taking his main character, Barrett Steele, and making him mine over a year ago. With different plot lines and details, of course. I wanted to wrap myself in his world, if only to hopefully discover what it was about his stories that made them different. Different enough to secure that seven-figure publishing deal. The dream.
“Rach.” Mal’s voice is firm and loud. “Rach!”
I blink, shrugging my consciousness back into reality, hearing sizzling and recognizing that I didn’t put the decanter on the warming plate, and coffee is pouring all over the counter.
“Ah!” I scream, quickly flipping the switch to turn the coffee pot off and grabbing a towel to wipe up my mess.
Mal shakes her head at me. “That’s the third time you’ve done that this week. Are you sure you don’t want some mushroom coffee?”
“Positive,” I mutter, slipping the decanter under the coffee pot before flipping the switch back on.
Mal laughs. “I’ll check in with you next week.”
I roll my eyes. “The answer will be the same. Mushrooms are not coffee.”
Mal huffs before sliding off the counter and taking the two steps toward me before beginning to play with my hair, twisting some of my red curls into submission before securing them with bobby pins that seemed to have appeared from thin air. “There.”
Taming my hair has never been one of my favorite hobbies. I’d prefer it to grow wild and free, but it often looks more wild than free. Mal, on the other hand, practically majored in braiding hair and swapping secrets when she was in college for a short year before she decided that wasn’t the path for her.
“Do you think Evan Michaels knows about my fanfiction?” I ask.
Mal shrugs her shoulders, handing my phone to me. “If he does, he should be thanking you for it. You’ve probably driven up his sales.”
I scrunch my brows together. “You think?”
“If people didn’t read about Barrett before, they are now. You’re basically free advertising for Evan Michaels,” she says.
And she’s right, at least about the free part. I haven’t made a penny from my fanfiction, but maybe Evan has.
I had been meticulous when it came to playing by the rules of fanfiction before I’d published my first piece on a free fanfic site calledThere’s More Between the Lines. It was a piece that was the length of a short chapter, but it had quickly become an internetsensation, revealing that there were other readers looking for spinoffs of theMurder After Darkseries.
While there are some ways I could try to make money, I can’t legally monetize my fanfiction pieces for copyright reasons. I’ve considered a subscription site, where others could pay to be given access to my stories, but I’ve yet to make the move…And I know why.
The truth is, I don’t want to be known for writing fanfic. I want exactly what Mal said—my own books with my name down the spines and my heart spilled out on the pages. I want a literary agent. I want my own publishing deal.
And fanfiction isn’t going to be that.
It’s why I never attached my real name to the account. I’m just BarrettBeyondTheBadge.
