//------------------------------// // Chapter One // Story: Flash Reads a Wally Fic // by shortskirtsandexplosions //------------------------------// Flash Sentry was dead. Dead tired. It was homeroom class. The morning. The apocalypse. The whatever. The young man sat limply at his desk, slumped over, his heavy face making an even heavier impression against the desktop. His ears tickled with the sounds of papers rustling, iPhones plinking, and tired classmates muttering some lethargic gossip or another. Was it...? Was it... … …? ... … ...just what the Hell day was it? There was a weekend here, but it's gone now. Flash groaned. Every second spilled into a day and every day felt like both a Monday and a Thursday mixed in a rusted bucket and rattled around. That in and of itself was a true purgatory. Maybe if he pressed his dull face hard enough into the desk he'd sink through a rabbit hole and end up somewhere with blissfully stupid nonsense— Scraaaaaaaaape! A desk slid up against his. A young woman's voice panted, as if finishing a marathon to arrive there. “Good morning, Flash...” The voice of a coquettish nobody tickled his ears in squeaky spurts. “...nice to see you...” A gulping sound. “So... did you get that thing I sent you?” Flash's muscles tensed. Oh... His teeth clenched. Oh... no... “Y'know... uhm... it would have shown up in your e-mail by now...” One by one, Flash's limbs shifted, preparing to spring. “Probably eight days ago, actually...” Eight days ago? When did they last talk? What month was it? “... … ...did you think about checking your Spam folder perhaps—” “I got the e-mail, Wallflower,” Flash monotoned. He sat up like a gravestone, gracing her with a granite stare. “I... looked at it.” Her whole body brightened, which only burned him all the more. “Oooh! So you did!” She leaned forward in her seat. “Soooooo... what did you think?” He felt a guilty lump bubbling up his esophagus. Like heartburn. “Well... as I said...” Like vomit. “I... looked at it...” She blinked. “Okay. Uhm.” A flutter of the eyelashes. “What part? Did you get to Chapter Five?” Flash smiled nervously. “Oh! To Chapter Nine?!” Flash smiled awkwardly. “... … ...to... ...to Chapter Three?” Flash smiled defeatedly. “I... erm...” He rubbed the back of his head, avoiding her gaze. “I... breezed over... uhm... most of Chapter One.” “...most?” “More like half.” He shuddered, gripping the edge of his desk as if expecting to be whalloped by a centaur from beyond. “I-I'm so sorry, Wallflower. But... I tried. I honestly did.” “Tried?” Wallflower's lips pursed as her brow furrowed in sheepish alarm. “But... but what was so hard about it...?” “Well...?” “The exposition wasn't dumped heavily at the beginning, was it?” “No...” “Was the tone off or the pacing bad?” “No... ...” “Was the dialogue peppered in wrong or the conflict introduced too early or the narrative rife with typos—” “No. No. None of that! It was... just...” Flash shrugged. “...Okay.” “'Okay?'” “I guess...?” “Flash...” Wallflower folded her arms. “If you didn't like the story, just spill it out. I can take it.” “Can you, though?” She squinted at him. The boy gulped. “It's just...” He exhaled heavily. “...how many days ago did you forward this story to me again?” “Eight days.” “Eight days...” He rubbed his scalp again. “I know that... m-might not seem like much. But... twelve chapters, Wallflower. Twelve Chapters!” “So what?” She beamed briefly. “I'm passionate!” “There's no arguing that! But...” Flash squirmed. “...it's just that... it doesn't necessarily mean that your readers will be.” “How so?” “I mean... it's an awful lot to throw at someone. I told you that I'd get around to it. And... I did—” “Half of the first chapter?” “Okay. So I didn't get around to it much. And... and I apologize, Wallflower. Sincerely, I do.” He shuddered, bravely staring her in the face with sad eyes. “I promised you that I would read your story and give you an honest perspective on it. I acknowledge that.” “So what's the problem?” “It's me, obviously.” She shook her head. “Don't just blame yourself, Flash. How could I have made it an easier read?” “Uhm...” “For anyone. Not just you.” “Honestly?” He spoke through clenched teeth. “Just... don't go all in so hard.” “All in?” “It's... pretty heavy handed to send me twelve chapters of this... Zelda romance epic and be like 'So, what do you think?'” It was Wallflower's turn to wince. “I came on too strong, huh?” “Jusssssst a tad.” “Well...” Wallflower sat back. “What... would your advice be in... the future?” “You ask me?” Flash gestured. “You should have just sent me the first chapter.” Wallflower facepalmed. “That way...!” He smiled hopefully. “It would have seem as less of a chore!” “A chore...” “I... guess that's a cruel way of putting it—” She lowered her palm and squinted at him. “Did the first half of the first chapter feel like a 'chore?'” Flash squirmed in his seat. “Well...” “I want to know the truth.” “The truth...?” “Wholly and completely.” “The truth...” Flash stared off into the distance. “The truth is... is...” “Yes...?” “I...” He sighed heavily. “I'm sorry, Wallflower, but... I guess I just... don't really enjoy video games that much.” “You don't enjoy video games...” “Never had.” “... … ...” “I... I'm sorry...” He smiled weakly at her. “I felt bad about it all week. And I guess—knowing how dispassionate I'd be in the end—that made it hard to even start reading your thing. If it was just a single chapter...” He shrugged. “I'm sorry. I really am.” He sat up. “However—! A twelve chapter fanfic about a rock band touring outer space... heheheh... now that I'd binge in a heartbeat! Lemme tell ya...” “I see...” Wallflower nodded in a dull tone. “It makes so much sense now.” Dry and deadpan, she leaned down and reached her hand deep into the heart of her backpack. “I only wished you had told me that the first time.” “Like I said: it's all on me, Wallflower. I'm really...” Just then, he blinked. “Wait...” He squinted at her. “What do you mean by 'the first ti—'?”