When I first moved into this apartment, my mother insisted I take all the old belongings still stored at her house. She said I finally had enough space to keep everything, so I did. While unpacking, I came across that old dialogue we wrote in school, buried in a folder I’d forgotten about. The moment I saw it, something clicked. I had it reproduced by a company that makes custom wallpaper.
I open the door and step aside, pointing to the wall behind the bed. There it is—our words, written out in neat, flowing script, the entiredialogue between Persephone and Hades covering the wall. Lauren steps into the room, her eyes widening as she takes it in. I stay silent, watching her reaction.
“Do you remember now?”
Back Then- My House.
Silas:
I've been thinking about the project. I think we could adapt the characters.
Lauren:
“I'm reading.” :)
I sigh with a half-smile. Lauren is actually kinda funny; I hadn’t noticed before.
Silas:
Let’s change the story. Instead of Hades stealing her, he should explain why she should go with him. Like, make it a deal.
Lauren:
I like that. Almost like it’s a negotiation.
Silas:
Exactly.
Lauren:
Let’s do it.
I toss my phone on the bed and grab a piece of paper and a pen. How the hell are we going to write this over text? The thought circles in my head. It's impossible over text. Like she said …
Without thinking, I press the green call button. And then, as soon as I realize what I’ve done, my heart starts racing like I just signed up for a marathon I didn’t train for. Why is my heart acting like a total drama queen? It’s just a phone call, right? I take a piece of paper and a pen and place my phone on the bed, watching it as if it might come to life.
Suddenly, I hear a click. Lauren answers.
“Uh ... hi,” I blurt out, feeling way more awkward than I should for someone who made this call.
“I thought you said only by text,” Lauren says, her voice laced with amusement.
“I changed my mind. We’re going to have to meet at least once to establish the basics,” I reply, trying to sound nonchalant, but my heart is doing that weird flutter thing again.
I ignore it.
“Are you sure you want to be seen with me?” she asks, and for a second, it throws me off.
My heart pulls one of those stunts again, but I push through. “I have no choice. Come to my house.”
There’s a pause on the other end, a long silence that makes me anxious. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. Let’s go somewhere neutral,” she finally says.
Neutral?Am I some kind of danger now? “Like where?” I ask, confused.
“Let’s go to the café”
“No,” I cut her off quickly. “I don’t want to go where you go every day.” That feels too ordinary, too predictable. I want it to be something ...special.Is that so hard?
