text: “Ah! Look who’s finally here!” Rodney looks over at you, smiling and getting Jack’s attention by nudging him with his elbow. Jack looked up from the book he was reading, an odd expression on his face. “Reader! Wasn’t expecting you, to be honest. We’ve been looking forward to meeting you for some time now, y’know. Jack stuck his hand out for a handshake, but hesitated. With a sheepish smile, he retracted his hand. “Sorry, I guess that’s not really possible, huh? With us not being physical and whatnot, I mean.” “We could always ask Author to write that we shook hands, but that’s not really the same thing, is it? But, really, it’s all unnecessary. We have things to discuss, so we shouldn’t waste our word count.” Rodney explained. He stood up from the brown leather accent chair, stretching his back. He wore a neat, brown suit with a stylish black tie. His hair was a dull red, slicked back with a bit of hairspray. A single strand had come loose, falling down across his forehead. His face was stern, thin eyes hidden behind thick framed glasses, eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed. His voice was loud and stern, not matching his appearance at all. “Author.” Rodney snapped, staring off at an empty corner. “Please, stop. No one wants to read lengthy descriptions of a character’s appearance. It's obvious you’re stalling for time.” “Come on Rodney, let her have this.” Jack interjected. “I’m sure Reader wants to know what we look like, don’t you think?” “As much as I trust in Author, I can’t have our story escape from us. Besides, it doesn’t matter what I look like. If Reader cares so much, they can make something up. We’re wasting words here. We have a limit if we want to be eligible for the contest.” “And when was the last time Cara got even close to reaching that limit?” Jack pointed out. “She’s barely even gone beyond 2,000 words, let alone 3,000.” Rodney placed a hand on his chest, taken aback. “Don’t you say her name so lightly!” “Oh, come on. They already know her name, it’s right up there. See?” Jack gestured to the top of the page. “No need to be so damn cagey.” “Still, we must use her proper title as a sign of respect. She created us, and she can just as easily abandon us. You must know of the many, many WIPs she hasn’t touched in mouths. You don’t want us to end up like that, do you?” A flash of genuine fear goes across Jack’s face. He tries to hide it by rolling his eyes. “Whatever, dude.” Jack gets up as well, tossing his book on to the coffee table. He was opposite to Rodney in many ways, from his more casual clothing to his softer facial features. His blond hair was long and messy, and the old sweater he wore was stained with something you couldn’t recognize. “Which is another way of saying she couldn’t think of anything.” Jack whispered to you. He felt a sudden, slight pain in the back of his head, as if he had been hit with a rolled up magazine. “What? I’m right!” he argued. “Jack, I’m begging you, stop messing with her.” Rodney pleaded, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance. “Look, Reader’s probably getting tired of all this. You’re wondering when we’re going to get to the point of all this, aren’t you?” “Don’t assume that! Maybe they love this!” Jack said. “Why don’t we ask them?” “We both know we can’t do that. Since Author has no control over them, we can’t know their answer. Plus, there will be more than one Reader reading this, and they will all have different thoughts and opinions.” “Then let’s give them some options to pick from, like those old “choose your own adventure” books!” Jack suggested. 1. Agree with Jack (page 12) 2. Disagree with Jack (page 49) “This is a short story! We can’t give Reader different options!” Rodney exclaimed. “We don’t even have that many pages to flip to! Hell, this isn’t being printed, so we don’t have pages period.” “Ugh, fine, fine. I guess we can just move on then.” Jack sighed. “Thank you!” Rodney said forcefully. He took a moment to compose himself before continuing. “Now, as you know, Author is creating this for a contest. We’re here to discuss our odds and, if I may be so bold, give some incentive to let her take the win.” “I’ll give you twenty bucks if you let her win.” Jack interjected. Rodney’s eye twitched. “Please, God, shut up. This is so important, not only for us, but for Author as well. A contest win would surely get her more commissions, which you and I both know she needs.” “Man, who cares!” Jack falls back on to his seat, flinging his feet over the armrest. He goes for his book, but Rodney is quick to snatch it away. “Why are you acting like this? What, do you not want to win? Do you just not care?” Rodney questions frantically. “You haven’t been taking any of this seriously, despite the fact that the entire reason Author created you was to be in this story to help me. Why are you going against her wishes?” “Because, the second this story ends, she’s not going to care anymore.” Jack's voice had gone unexpectedly cold. He cocked his head, supporting it on his arm as he looked at Rodney dead in the eyes. “She doesn’t care about us, Rod. The only reason we exist is because this story needed characters, and she wasn’t going to use any of the ones from her real projects. I mean, hell, look at our fucking names even. Jack and Rodney?” “Those are fine names!” “She chose them with a name generator! They have no deeper, symbolic meanings, they’re filler, just like us.” Rodney’s face fell. A look of disbelief and horror spread from across his whole body, letting his arms hand low and his heart drop. Jack just snatched his book from Rodney’s hand. “I’m not about to waste my limited existence doing work for someone who doesn’t even care.” Rodney was frozen in place. He tried to speak a few times, but the words died in his throat. Jack didn’t seem to care as he lazily flipped through the pages of his book. “...She does care.” Rodney mumbled, barely audible. “Give it up, Rod.” “No. No!” Rodney straightened, determination and resolve flowing through him. “If she truly didn’t care, she wouldn't have published this. She wouldn’t have edited this if she didn’t care. She wouldn’t have written this in the first place if she didn’t care! Jack, don’t you see? While, yes, we are not her most developed or thought out characters, we are still her characters! She cared enough to make us exist, to let the world see us, to let herself be judged through us!” Rodney ranted, a hopeful smile appearing on his face. Jack still looked unconvinced, but he continued to listen. “I mean, look! Reader is proof of just that!” Rodney turned, that hopeful smile now aimed at you. “Author cared enough to let Reader meet us. So many of her characters don’t get such an amazing opportunity, but we did!” Jack looked over at you, trying to read your expression. After a moment, he just let out a sigh. “...Ah, well, what do I know. I’m just a jumble of words, after all.”