Riggins (texasforever) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2015-08-25 16:28:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, ezra fitz, wendy darling |
Who: Ezra & Wendy
What: Writing session turned dream discussion
When: Today
Where: Wendy's
Rating/Warnings: Low
Status: Complete
They were finally having one of their writing sessions at Wendy’s place. Of course it was immediately after a night of dreaming for Ezra, followed up with some gifts. If you could even call them that. He did want to show the book to Wendy though, see what she thought. If she could tell it was his writing. The story was basically exactly the same as the one he was already writing. Just different characters. It was bizarre, but then everything that seemed to happen in this place was.
First thing was first though. “How’s your writing been going? Gotten anything new done recently?” he asked as he sipped the coffee he had made her. Tea wasn’t his thing. The last week seemed to have been a crazy one. Everyone seemed to be on edge. Himself included. He hadn’t been able to get much writing done, he wondered if Wendy had gone through something similar.
Coffee was alright, Wendy occasionally enjoyed the dark brew. Usually in the mornings, if she stopped in the cafe she frequented to get her usual and the usual for James - of course, now knowing that Peter Pan was the one putting drinks together would probably cause a change in the routine, at least for her attorney boyfriend. Wendy didn’t mind so much. Even if it was a wee tad awkward.
Though certainly not as awkward as breaking her best friend’s nose and having to be locked in a closet because she was completely mad. It had been a trying week or so - she was glad it was over.
“God, no,” she laughed sheepishly, curled up on the sofa armed with her laptop, all her notes, and sipping from her mug - it was coffee with a couple pumps of caramel, and sugar. And a few splashes of milk. More like a sweet cream drink than actual coffee but that was how she liked it. “Thanks to the latest insanity I spent most of the time out of my mind.” But you couldn’t even tell, all the broken glass and bloodstains had been efficiently cleaned! “I think I need to move to Timbuktu if I ever want to become a serious writer. What about you?”
Ezra raised a brow at her comment. He was sure there was more to the story there. He would have to get those details out of her at some point. At the moment he was a bit anxious to show her his dream book. “Well if you do move to Timbuktu, be sure to email me updates. I need to know what happens once Red-Handed Jill finally takes over that ship,” he teased because he knew Wendy wasn’t going anywhere. But really, he needed to know what was going to happen next.
“Well,” Ezra began, “I have this.” He reached into his bag that was sitting on the floor beside his chair, pulling out a thick stack of papers, almost a completed novel. He handed them over to Wendy, not expecting her to read it all now, but maybe just skim a few pages. It wasn’t as if it was all that different from what she had already read of his crime novel anyway. He sat in silence for a few minutes letting her look it over while he sipped his coffee. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. “What do you think?”
Red-Handed Jill, ah, yes. The spunky lass was the pirate ‘heroine’ of Wendy’s novel - based on what she had dreamed of, partly. And how she pictured herself as a pirate, a staunch proponent of equality in terms of women on ships, viewing them as partners-in-arms rather than a symbol of bad luck. In her book, Jill would make history - it was set to be quite exciting.
“I promise I’ll let you know,” she grinned, the obvious spark of madness gone from her eye - it was nice to be herself again. Living in the OC was so trying sometimes. Anyway, she took the papers from Ezra and set her coffee down to give everything a looksie.
Didn’t take her too long, she was a speed-reader. But she felt an odd sense of deja vu wash over her. “This is...is this what you were working on in your dreams? It seems very detailed. And not unlike your novel here.”
He would hold her to that. She couldn’t just get him hooked and with hold the ending from him. Even if it took her awhile to finish with all the OC craziness. He was determined to get an ending out of her at some point. That was part of what these meetings were about, right? To push each other to keep writing even when life got insane. He had his own selfish reasoning as well, like wanting to know how it ended.
He was a bit surprised that Wendy had caught on so quick. As to what it was. Where it was from. Though he shouldn’t have been. She was clever and the story was almost exactly the same. “Yeah, it’s from the dreams,” he confirmed with a sigh. “I didn’t even know I was writing a novel in the dreams,” he went on rubbing his temple. It was clear from the look on his face that he was not happy about this new development.
“Oh...well, there’s usually some crossover. Sometimes things have to unfold a bit more before we realise.” And yet the development was unnerving, obviously, in some way. Wendy didn’t really understand though - this was just a work of fiction, wasn’t it? But her fellow author friend seemed to turn gloomy at the mention. Therefore, something was obviously the matter.
She was concerned, and it was reflected in her expression as she watched him. No one could deny the power of her large blue peepers. “What is it, Ezra? Did something happen in your dreams?”
His novel here was fiction, yes. At least that was what he thought. Before he started dreaming. It was hard to deny the similarities between his novel and what was actually happening to the girls in his dreams. His dream book was another story. That wasn’t fiction. It was a true crime novel based on Alison DiLaurentis and her friends. Those girls may or may not exist in this world he had no idea, but they sure as hell existed in Rosewood.
A lot had happened in his dreams recently. He missed the days where his dreams were boring. Where he was just an English teacher and the most scandalous thing he did was date a student. “You could say that,” Ezra began. Should he really share this with Wendy? Even if it was his dream alter ego, it wasn’t something he was proud of. Another sigh before he continued. “It turns out that I knew Aria was being stalked by this A person all along.” Though he still didn’t have a clue who A was. Mona, yes but then it was still going on after she was put away. “I also knew Alison before I met Aria. I knew she wasn’t really dead. I was writing the book about her and her friends the whole damn time. That’s why I was in Rosewood.”
Wendy’s brow furrowed, as she took this all in. It seemed...strange. Yes, very strange - and she couldn’t put her finger on why. Probably because there was such a disconnect between how she viewed Ezra here, and how she viewed his dream self - he told her all about what he was up to in that soap opera or whatever was going on, but it was like a story in and of itself. That wasn’t her Ezra.
Perhaps she was meant to judge him, or feel some sort of creepy-crawly sensation about what he’d done in another life but she didn’t. Not really. And wouldn’t judge him - they all did questionable things in the dreams, or things they might not have done here. That was the point - to not repeat history. Things bleeding over here and there was different than an exact copy.
“And so what do you think of all this? I mean, doesn’t it seem a little ridiculous to you?” she wanted to know, drawing her legs up beneath her to sit more comfortably on the sofa. “Here, you’re simply a professor who happens to be writing a novel, just without all the other fluff.”
He didn’t know what he felt about it all. Guilt maybe. Ashamed, certainly. Even if it wasn’t the real him, it was still him in a way. He understood why dream!Ezra did the things he did. He didn’t like it, or even agree with it, but if circumstances had been different could that have been his life? Stalking a supposed dead girls friends just for a good book?
But hey, at least Wendy’s opinion of him hadn’t changed. The sullen look on his face finally wavered. “Ridiculous is certainly a good way to put it. I take it that’s how you feel about it?” He even attempted a smile now and managed to give her half of one. “I don’t know,” he said giving his own thoughts on what he thought. “The whole dreaming concept. It’s a lot to get used to. But the fact that the books are almost exactly the same. That I was writing one in the dreams this whole time. That it’s based on real people there. It’s worrisome.”
It sounded like a tricky web, and was certainly nothing normal - but then again, nothing ever was these days. “A little ridiculous,” Wendy smiled too, encouraging. And sympathetic, because she understood, she really did. The dreams had a different effect on everyone - and never would she argue they were just dreams, or didn’t matter (her housemates dying multiple times and/or waking up close to death’s door proved otherwise) but she still thought that they could be more of a learning tool than something to damn them all.
“You’d never do something like that now, would you? Stalk people?” she asked. “You look at this person in your dreams - and yes, he’s you to some degree. But a different version who goes about things differently than you would here, since you’ve got different experiences and things.”
No. He would never stalk someone. Not for a story like dream!Ezra. Not to torture them like A. Not for any reason. That wasn’t his style. There were a few things from the dreams he would do here, like date a student, he was coming close to that one. Maybe. But that was a whole other issue.
“No. I wouldn’t,” he said that with certainty then broke into a smile. “Just what kind of creep do you think I am, Wendy?” he had to make light of the situation. It was the best way to go about it. He was a creep in the dreams. No way around that one, but teasing Wendy here, when he knew she didn’t think of him that way. It made him feel a bit better in some way.
However the smile disappeared on his face after a few moments. Now he needed her opinion. Her advice. “What do you think I should do? With the novels being similar? Should I give up on it and start something new?” It was hard to let all that work go, he had come up with the idea long before he started dreaming. But now it felt wrong, to continue writing it.
Wendy chuckled, gently shoving Ezra’s shoulder in a playful way. “No,” she insisted, still laughing. “I don’t think you’re a creep. Maybe the Diet Coke version of creeps.” Teasing, of course she was teasing. Unless he really did start dating a high school student, then she might begin to get a little concerned. Only because she wouldn’t want to have to break him out of jail or anything.
Her hands slid around the coffee mug to hold it carefully and let the heat seep in, and she considered the question. “I think you should write what makes you happy?” she suggested. “I read this quote about writing, it was...’plot is people. Human emotions and desires founded on the realities of life, working at cross purposes, getting hotter and fiercer as they strike against each other until finally there’s an explosion.’ Perhaps something else will strike you.”
Diet Coke version. He’d take that. Made him laugh to. Somehow Wendy always knew just what to say. What would he do without her? “I suppose I can live with that,” he gave a half shrug, laughter still filled his voice. “You like Diet Coke, right?”
That was good advice. His novel used to make him happy. Now the dreams had tainted it. Perhaps it was time to move on. Or maybe he just needed a break from writing in general for a bit. Focus on his classes, until his next idea hit. “Maybe,” he agreed the happiness gone from his face, but only for a brief moment. Than he was right back to teasing his friend. “Who knows, I might end up giving you a run for your money in the pirate genre.”
Pirates were interesting creatures, weren’t they? So Wendy didn’t discount it! Her own novel was slow-going but one day, she would actually finish and sort of...segue away from life as a paralegal. Follow her dreams, grab a star, all that nonsense. Things she had always wanted to do - at the very least, life in the OC had shown her that you had to take the bull by the horns sometimes. “You may very well do that,” she grinned, glad that the gloominess had dissipated from Ezra a bit. He deserved to be happy, she wanted to see him happy.
“Whatever you decide, we’ll always have our literary sessions, me and you.” That was a fact that would remain constant - because it was what initially drew them together, a love of writing, and something they had in common.
Even if Ezra did take a little break from writing, he would never take a break from his meetings with Wendy. Someone had to push the paralegal. Remind her to keep writing even with all the obstacles living in Orange County seemed to provide. “Of course, don’t think I’m letting you off the hook that easily.” But it wasn’t like all they did at these little sessions was discuss their works. Though that was the majority of it. But speaking of.. “So where is the home cooked meal I was promised?” Enough with the depressing dream talk. On to bigger and better, to be accurate more delicious things.
“I know you won’t, you’re good for it,” Wendy giggled, then she leaned over and gave him a smooch on the cheek. “Come on, then, we’ll go heat up that food. I made bourbon chicken and rice, and I may have also put together something sweet for dessert.” Sinful peanut butter cream pie, to be exact, homemade crust and all - and it was sitting pretty in the fridge with a nose for her housemates to not touch.
She would send Ezra home with leftovers too. Hey, someone had to fuss - and it was usually her, the British mother hen.