Original Fiction
I signed up for a creative writing course this year to force myself to write stuff that's not fanfiction. The problem was that I didn't know what to write that wasn't fanfiction. So I ended up writing a fanfic that's not a fanfic, that is, it's in the genre of fanfiction, it uses and parodies some fanfic conventions, only it's not about a fandom. My prof liked it (yay!) and I do too, but I don't think there's much of a chance I'll ever submit it for publication anywhere, so I'm posting it here.
Please note that this is an original story, I retain the rights to it and if I ever discover that anyone else has claimed it as their own I will hunt you down and kill you. Enjoy!
Oh, and also, all the characters in this story are completely fictional. Any resemblance to any real persons, whether lving or dead, is purely coincidental.
Four Things That Never Happened to Me and One That Did
Tina slouched in to her history lecture a half-hour late, muttered her apology to her professor and quickly walked to the back of the room, nodding “hello” to Michael as she passed his seat. She sat down, slumping in her chair as if the effort of keeping her spine straight would have been too much for her, and tried to pay attention to the remainder of the lecture. It was a struggle; she was so tired she felt like her head would fall off. In a shapeless old sweatshirt, torn jeans and with strands of hair sticking out of her ponytail, she looked like she was about to fall apart.
When the class ended, Tina was the first to leave. She was walking out the door while all the other students were handing in their essays. She waited for Michael outside the door.
“You didn’t finish your essay?” he asked by way of greeting.
“No,” Tina replied glumly, as they started to leave the building, maneuvering between the herds of students that filled the hall.
“But I thought you spent the night at the library to finish it?”
“I did. Hence the all-nighter chic,” she said, indicating her look. “Only, without the finishing.”
“But you’re almost done, right?”
“Not really.” Tina would have preferred to have left it at that, but she could see Michael was about to ask her what happened, so she continued with a sigh. “I thought I’d rest my brain, like, a five minute break, and check out Jossese. And someone had posted a link to a new fic archive, and they had all this stuff that I had never seen before, which is saying something. And they had this really good Jaymon series, like really good, and that’s really saying something ‘cause I don’t usually go for the slash, but it was really well done - minimal OC-ness - and I was like, ‘I’ll just read one more chapter… I’ll just read one more chapter... Just one more.’ Then it was morning and my essay, not so much with the being done.”
“Oh.” Michael nodded. “You do understand that I have no clue what you just said.”
Tina looked incredulous. “You are a Firefly fan, aren’t you?” she asked sarcastically. Their mutual appreciation for the science fiction show had been what brought Tina and Michael together. That and History of the Early Middle Ages (300-1100) were all they really had in common. It was also all that Michael, in Tina’s opinion, really had going for him. When they had first started dating she had also liked that he was tall, but later she decided that being not-so-good-looking cancelled out his height-appeal.
“Of course,” he answered
“And you know about the internet, right?”
“Yeah…”
“Yet you are ignorant of online fandom?”
“I guess. I mean, I check Jossese for news now and then. I’ve heard of fanfiction but Jaymon? Slash? OC?”
“OC stands for out-of-character,” Tina explained, “a major problem with most fic, ‘cause most of it is written just to get two characters together as quickly as possible. That’s why good fic is hard to find, especially ones about UC ships -”
“Stories about spaceships?”
Tina rolled her eyes, but happily explained the vocabulary. “Relationships. UC ships are unconventional or un-canon relationships. Like Jaymon, which is Jayne/Simon, which is also slash - that’s guy/guy.”
“Oookay. Still doesn’t really explain why you were reading it instead of doing your essay.”
The turn in the conversation from fandom to real-life made Tina grimace. “It’s not my fault! It drew me in!”
“I actually don’t get why you read that stuff at all.”
“I don’t get how you can be a fan and not. Fandom lives online, it’s like a whole world - so much better than the real one - and with fanfic you’re totally immersed in it. It’s total escape.”
“The real world’s not so bad.”
“Yeah. Whatever.”
They were outside by now. After spending more than twelve hours infront of a computer screen in a dim library, seeing all the trees and the buildings in the bright sunlight made them seem very unreal to Tina.
Michael stepped off the sidewalk as they neared his residence. Tina hung back.
“You wanna hang in my room?” he asked with a quirky smile that let Tina know that by “hang” he meant “make-out.”
“Uh… I can’t. I have work now.”
“Oh. Okay. Some other time then.” Michael shrugged and stepped towards Tina to kiss her goodbye.
Tina stepped back. “You don’t wanna kiss me,” she said self-deprecatingly. “It’s been awhile since I brushed my teeth.”
“Okay. Bye then.”
“Yeah, bye.” Tina waved as she turned away. She walked purposefully down the sidewalk, as if there was somewhere she really had to be, in case Michael was watching her. She really didn’t have to be at work for another three hours, but she just didn’t like kissing Michael. A couple of times she had tried pretending he was someone else, but it didn’t work. In her mind, George Clooney was a much better kisser than that.
Tina went to the library and sat down at the computer. At least she could get another paragraph or two written before she had to go. She opened the internet browser and downloaded her incomplete essay from her email. Then she looked up the story she had been reading before class. She would just read one more chapter.
***
Three hours and fifteen minutes later, she was late for work, dreading what would happen when she got there. To say her boss was authoritarian would have been an understatement. Tina had him pegged as an alien, due to the unnatural extent to which his eyeballs would bulge of their sockets whenever he was in a temper. The last time Tina was late he had been so livid at her that Stan, the mild-mannered floor supervisor, had to step in on Tina’s behalf.
“She’s a very good worker, Hank,” Stan had said, eying his hard-featured boss nervously, “she’s got the best monitoring scores in the room, and a high flow rate.”
Tina looked to her boss repentantly, and to her relief, she saw his eyeballs recede.
“All right,” he replied, taking a deep, calming breath and assuming a magnanimous air, “but don’t be late again, or you’re out.”
“Yeah, okay,” Tina nodded, and then hurried out of the boss’s office, Stan close behind her. When they reached a safe distance, Tina turned to him and said, “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it,” he smiled slightly as he replied. Before she returned to her desk Tina noticed him cast a nervous glance over his shoulder, as if afraid the boss was going to storm out of his office any second, demanding vengeance upon those who challenged how he dealt with employees.
Now, only two days later, she was late again.
Tina groaned in despair as the bus made yet another stop to let off a little old lady who took her own sweet time climbing down the stairs. At this point, Tina was starting to hope that she would be fired. A call-centre job didn’t seem to be worth the stress. She already had enough issues in her life without it.
All the same, when the bus reached Tina’s stop she was the first one out the doors, and she ran full-tilt the block-and-a-half to the call-centre. She jogged on the spot as she jammed the elevator button.
“C’mon, c’mon…”
By the time she reached her floor she was red-faced and out-of-breath, and, to her horror, her boss was waiting for her.
“Tina. I was beginning to think you weren’t coming in at all today.”
“Sorry… traffic jam… I couldn’t -” Tina started to say as she tried to catch her breath.
“No need to explain. I know, things happen.” He unexpectedly favoured her with a kindly smile. “Just make sure you’re at your desk and dialing away when I get back.” He walked past Tina to the elevators, leaving her in shock.
She must have had an odd expression on her face, because as she passed the supervisor’s desk, Stan asked if she was feeling ill. .
“No, I’m fine.” She gave her head a little shake. “I’m not fired.”
“Good. Glad to hear it.” Stan smiled and nodded. “Better get to work then.”
“Yeah.” Tina headed for her desk, still trying to come to terms with her boss’s out-of-character behaviour. It was weird; she never thought she’d see him act so human.
***
“Hello?”
“Hi, this is Tina, calling from Research Probes on behalf Royal Bank, is Mr. Roger Snipes available please?”
“You got the wrong number.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. May I just make sure I dialed correctly? Is this 416-55 -”
Click.
Incorrect listing.
“Hello?”
“Hi, this is Tina -“
“…You’ve reached the McCallisters at -“
Click.
Answering machine.
The next three calls Tina coded as “Busy,” “Not in service” and “Fax machine.” The last one had almost deafened her with blaring mechanical scratches and beeps.
She dialed again.
“Hello?”
“Hi, this is -
““Goddamn telemarketers!”
Click
"Jerk-off.” Tina smirked maliciously as she scheduled a dinnertime callback for the last number she had dialed. Petty acts of vengeance aside, however, this evening was turning out to be the most deadly boring shift in a long time. Which was quite remarkable, considering work at Research Probes was always deadly boring.
Tina and the boy sitting next to her were the only two working in an isolated grouping of cubicles at the farthest end of the office, but Tina still glanced covertly over her shoulder to make sure Stan wasn’t walking by, before ducking under her desk and pulling out a book called The Glory of Charlemagne the Great: Founder of Civilization from her backpack. Although it was possible to read and dial at the same time, Tina’s boss didn’t allow any reading in the call centre. She was willing to risk it, however, if it meant coming closer to the end of her essay. Also, she was sure she’d have more fun spending her evening in the early Middle Ages than being hung up on by cranky geriatrics.
Ten minutes later, Tina was forced to concede that she had been wrong. With a great sigh of boredom, she closed the book and let it slide off her lap and onto the floor. Then, after once again checking that the coast was clear, she pushed her chair away from her desk and poked her head into the cubicle next to her.
A boy, about 23, sat there. He wasn’t dialing, but was writing something. He wore a tight-fitting ribbed sweater, and his eyebrows were impeccably groomed.
“Hi Kevin. Whatcha doin’?”
“I’m making a list,” he said in an airy voice, “of the top-ten hottest guys at Research Probes.”
“Yeah? Who’s on it?” Tina asked with interest, leaning further around the cubicle wall.
“Well, number one is Hans…”
“Oh yeah,” Tina nodded in hearty approval.
“Then: me, because I think I really am pretty hot. Then Ian, then -“
“Watch out!” Tina whispered urgently. She had just caught sight of the boss walking up the aisle between the cubicles, apparently oblivious to Stan trying to catch up behind him. Tina and Kevin hastily turned back to their computer screens and pretended to be dialing intently. As soon as the danger had passed, Tina turned her attention back to Kevin and his top-ten list.
“So,” Kevin continued in a whisper, “after Ian, the next hottest guy is -“
“Hank!” they heard Stan’s voice whisper desperately from the other side of the cubicle walls, “We need to talk. I need to talk to you.”
“Now?” The boss replied nervously.
“Well, I… I heard about you letting Tina off the hook, and I-I just wanted to say… I’m proud of you. You’re becoming a better person.”
“Well, it’s because of you, you know.” The boss’s voice sounded almost shy.
Tina and Kevin exchanged incredulous looks.
“I know… ever since we both worked over-time that night… I knew there was something… something special between us. There was something in your eyes…”
Tina nudged Kevin, “Isn’t Stan married?” she mouthed to him. He only shrugged in reply. They both went back to listening closely.
The boss’s whisper was tentatively hopeful now, “So, do you think, we could… tonight, maybe-“
“Do we have to wait that long?” Stan interrupted eagerly.
“My office?”
“See you there after break.”
Tina and Kevin pretended to dial again as Stan walked back down their aisle, a new bounce in his step. After he had passed they turned back to each other.
“Ooookay… never thought I’d see something like that happen here,” Tina said.
“Yeah, weird,” Kevin replied, “but, uh, kinda hot.”
“Uh, kinda yeah,” Tina conceded, “at any rate, this definitely qualifies as Least. Boring. Shift. Ever.”
***
“So, on a scale of one to ten, where one is “poor” and ten is “excellent,” how would you rate Royal Bank’s customer service overall?”
“Oh, I think they’re just wonderful, and I’ll tell you why: when my husband and I were just starting out, oh, thirty years ago now…”
Tina rolled her eyes and leaned back in her chair. Besides her, Kevin was turning off his computer and putting on his coat. Tina glared jealously at him. She would have been leaving with him, but she had gotten a respondent just before Stan had called the end of the shift, and had to stay until she finished the survey.
Kevin turned to her. “You got a talker?” he asked.
Tina nodded morosely. The woman on the other end of the line was now outlining the details of her children’s mortgages.
“Sucks to be you.” Kevin smirked, and waved Tina goodbye as he left.
Tell me something I don’t already know, Tina thought as she raised her own hand in a half-hearted wave.
“…so my entire family has always been faithful to Royal Bank,” the woman on the other end finished, as if it were something to be proud of.
“I’m glad to hear that,” Tina said despondently. “now, keeping all that in mind, how would you rate Royal Bank’s customer service, overall, on a scale from one to ten?”
“Well, I just told you” She sounded annoyed that Tina hadn’t been paying attention to her family’s banking history.
“Yes, but I need you to tell me a number on a scale from one to ten.”
“Oh, all right.” The woman considered her choice for a moment, “nine and a half. And say, how much longer is this going to take, anyways?”
Tina’s spirits suddenly lifted. “There are twenty-five questions in all, and we’re on question two. Did you want to quit?” she suggested hopefully.
“Oh, no. I enjoy doing surveys. I was just curious.”
“Ah. I see.” Tina deflated as all hope of getting home before midnight seeped out of her. “Well, back to that last question, I need you to give me a whole number, if you can.”
“All right,” the woman paused, “what was the scale again?”
Tina missed the last bus and had to walk home from the subway station. It was a half-hour walk and the air was bitingly cold, making her ears ache all the way through to her brain. It was one o’clock am by the time Tina got off her elevator and dragged her feet to her apartment door.
Tina had mixed feelings about coming home. On the one hand, home was where her bed was, and the shower, and her computer with all her favourite links bookmarked, and her Firefly DVD boxed set. On the other hand, it was also where a sink full of dirty dishes always was, and a fridge that was too often empty, except for a couple of half-eaten tins of herring and some rank old lettuce that nobody wanted to touch even to throw away. It was where garbage bags piled up next to the door, perpetually being forgotten to be taken out. It was where her mother chattered anxiously about everything that needed to get done that wasn’t, and where her father rarely left the dark of his room and the glow of his TV set.
So it was with a sense of gloom that Tina opened her apartment door and stepped inside. From the front hall she could see straight into the kitchen, and her stomach tightened when she saw what she dreaded about coming home most of all: her mother waiting up for her. It could only mean she had something distressing to talk about. Usually, it was finances, a discussion that always made Tina retreat to her room afterwards and repeat the 23rd Psalm to herself a few times, even though she had stopped believing in God two years ago.
Tina noticed her mom’s eyes and nose were red: she had been crying. Something must have happened to dad. Maybe he had some kind of attack. Part of Tina was glad that it had finally happened. The rest of her was too frightened to move.
Her mother looked up at her, her anxious face even more furrowed than usual. “Tina, you’re finally home. Come here, I have something important to tell you.”
Without being aware of what her feet were doing, Tina moved towards the kitchen. Already she was repeating in her head, Even as I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil, I fear no evil, I. Fear. NO. Evil.
As she passed through the doorway, she noticed there was someone else in the room. He was about five years older than her, tall, wearing a blue button-down shirt, crisply ironed khakis and looking vaguely familiar. Without intending to, Tina found herself staring at him, trying to figure out where she had seen him before. He didn’t seem to mind, however; he was looking back at her just as seriously.
“Tina,” she heard her mother say nervously, “this is your brother.”
The man in front of her smiled, “Pleased to make your acquaintance,” he said in an American accent, and held out his hand. Tina took it politely and got a hearty handshake.
She turned to her mother in something of a daze, “I’m sorry, he’s my what?”
“He’s your brother. Half-brother, actually.”
“M’name’s Rich,” the man interjected helpfully.
Tina was still the picture of confusion. Her mother continued to explain, “I was married once before I met your father…”
“Zuh? When?” Tina was quickly doing the math in her head. She knew the years her mother was in college, the year she started dating her father, the year they married. There wasn’t time in between…
“That’s not important. What is important is that I did love him and the son we had together, but we were too poor to keep him. So we put him up for adoption…” She lowered her eyes, which were brimming with tears. Rich was gazing at her with gentle understanding.
“But-but, you’re parents were rich-” They had left Tina’s family enough money when they died to keep them in the middle-class lifestyle for quite a few years despite her father’s health problems. Tina didn’t understand why they wouldn’t have helped her mom when she was younger.
“It was complicated,” was all that her mother could offer in explanation before dissolving into sniffles.
Rich patted her consolingly on the back. “Don’t fret about it, ma,” he said plainly, “I’ve had a good life. Just, I’ve always wondered who m’actual blood-kin was. So I looked, an’ then I found y’all, an’ now that we’re all together, I intend to keep it that way,” he looked at Tina and smiled, “family should stick together.”
Tina stared blankly back at him. “We should, eh?” she said uncertainly.
Rich grinned in delight, “Y’all actually say “eh” up here! That’s downright charming.”
Tina was quickly coming to the conclusion that she’d rather her fingers stick together with airplane glue than stick with Rich. To her annoyance, her mother was grinning too.
“Rich is rather well off…” she informed Tina in as off-hand a tone as possible.
“Oh.” Tina looked at her brother with new appreciation.
“Aw, just a little,” Rich blushed and averted his eyes shyly in a way that clearly said he was quite a bit more than “just a little.” “I’ve written a few books an’ stuff. They did all right.”
“Best-sellers,” added Tina’s mom.
Rich blushed even more, “Yeah, but it’s not like anyone’s really interested in history these days anyways.”
“Tina is. She’s a history major.”
“Are you now?”
“Yeah…” Tina was still trying to wrap her head around the possibility that anyone with an accent like Rich’s could be in any way an academic. Then she suddenly remembered her essay-from-hell and she was willing to accept it. “In fact, I’m working on a paper right now on the Carolingian Renaissance. You wouldn’t happen to…”
“That’s m’area of expertise!” Rich proclaimed happily.
“Really?” Tina was finding it hard to contain her joy. It was just all too convenient. “So, if you have the time, do you think you’d be able to-”
“I’d love to give you a hand with it, sis. That’s what family’s for.”
“Right!” Tina agreed, now grinning just as broadly as Rich and her mom, “Family should stick together.”
***
Tina was sitting by the side of the road, being pushed and kicked by the bustling crowd that was passing her by. One grim faced blended into the next and their dull, dark clothes blended into the soot-covered buildings behind them. Not one of them so much as flickered their gaze in Tina’s direction. Why should anyone care about such a destitute waif, grubby and grimy, as she was, clothed in rags and barefoot? She didn’t even care about herself, but let herself be buffeted around by the disinterested mob.
Then she heard the distinct “clip-clip-clop” of horses’ hooves on cobblestone and raised her head to see who was coming. What she saw was a shining white horse with a mouse’s tail, pulling an open carriage made of gold. The carriage stopped right in front of her and Tina was surprised to see that her father was driving it and her mother was seated inside. Her father looked healthy and handsome, just like he did in the photos Tina had seen of him that had been taken when she was only a baby. He wore a tailcoat and top hat. He called out to her, “Hey there, Tina. What you doin’ there by the side o’ the road? Hop on board; you’ve got places to go!”
Without giving it even a passing thought, Tina did as she was told.
Tina awoke the next morning with a supremely dreamy feeling in her heart that stayed with her the whole day. Her mood slipped a little when she got to class and realized that she had totally forgotten that a test was scheduled for that day. But it turned out to be much easier than Tina expected. Her classmates may have been complaining about it afterwards, but Tina couldn’t think of a single answer she got wrong.
“You are so smart,” said Kay, whom Tina had never talked to before she came up to her after class and asked what her answer was for #4 (“How has the concept of ‘The City on a Hill’ influenced American foreign policy up to the present day?”)
Tina had just finished explaining how the American fantasy that the eyes of the world are constantly watching them was related to isolationism. She smiled modestly at the complement and suggested that they go to their college’s Junior Common Room for lunch.
“Sure,” Kay replied, “and what was your answer for, ‘Define the meaning of “liberty” in the south before 1964’?”
“Oh, that was easy: a myth.”
“You are so smart.”
As the two girls entered the JCR, Tina scanned the entire space with her glittering emerald eyes, as had become her habit whenever she went there. She continued to look around as she and Kay headed for a free couch. It wasn’t until they sat down that she saw him sitting in the couch directly across the room from their own.
He was tall and slender, with longish, medium-brown hair and soft grey-blue eyes and wearing his trademark vintage corduroy jacket. He had worn it nearly every day since Tina had first seen him a year ago, which was just as long as she had been nursing a crush on him. Once, Tina had sat near enough to him and his friends to glean that he was 24 years old, a grad student in Peace and Conflict Studies, and that his name was Peter.
Tina tossed her lustrous blonde hair over her shoulder, hoping to catch his attention. She wanted him to see her talking with someone and having fun, not sitting alone as she usually did. So, that means I should probably be talking now, Tina realized, and turned to Kay.
“The thing about history,” Tina began, as Kay listened with interest, “is that once it’s written down it becomes a myth, even a lie. The writer can never include, or even comprehend, all the factors and influences that go into making an event happen, or all the millions of short- and long-term consequences that proceed from that event. A choice always has to be made about what to keep and what to cut, like when sculpting something out of rock. History is something refined that reflects the writer’s vision, or bias; it bears little resemblance to the rough rock of the past from which it was hewn. The trick for us is to discern how it was manipulated, and, if possible, piece the past back together so come as close to reality as possible-”
“But is that even possible?” a male voice cut in. Tina looked up and saw soft, grey-blue eyes looking back at her. “I was passing by and couldn’t help overhearing you,” Peter explained as he pulled a chair over to sit by Tina and Kay. “My point is,” he continued, “that mythization of history is unavoidable. It doesn’t just happen on the level of information, but on the level of word choice: whether you call a bunch of soldiers marching in an invasion or liberation. Maybe it’s a bit of both, but the words you choose are going to exclude one point of view or the other.”
Tina felt like she should have been speechless - he was actually talking to her, not just talking, having discussion with her - but a rejoinder came to her lips surprisingly easily. “It’s not that I think total adherence to reality is an achievable goal, just that it’s the ideal we should strive for.”
“But why? Is it even relevant? I mean, once it’s past, doesn’t the myth become more important to people than reality anyhow? For example, does it matter whether George Washington really cut down a cherry tree or not? If people believe it, isn’t it as if he really did?”
“I can see your point,” Tina conceded, “although I think you sound like you’re angling for a job at the Ministry of Truth.”
Peter laughed. His teeth were very straight. “My name’s Peter, by the way. Peter Levin.”
Tina smiled her own dazzlingly white smile back. “Crescentina Dreamheart,” she introduced herself, blushing slightly, rose colouring her porcelain face.
“That’s a pretty name.”
“Thanks,” Tina blushed even more, “people just call me Tina though. And this is Kay,” she added.
Peter nodded at Kay, who raised her hand in a timid wave.
He turned back to Tina, “Hey, um, do you want to come hang out with me and my friends over there?” he indicated a tight group of people sitting together on the other side of the room.
“Sure.”
“Great,” Peter smiled, “c’mon then. Do you want me to introduce you as Crescentina or just Tina?”
“Just Tina’s fine,” she said as they stood up together and started across the room.
“Okay. It is a pretty name though, which I guess is why it suits you.”
Tina managed to keep herself from blushing this time and just smiled.
As they walked away, Kay called after them, “I’ll see you around, then.”
“Yeah…” Tina called back absent-mindedly, and waved goodbye to the girl without looking back.
Later that day, Tina and Peter were strolling around campus together. The bright, clear sky and fall foliage setting off the old stone buildings in the most postcard-perfect way, but Tina didn’t seem to notice. She was staring into the distance, walking as if in a daze.
“Deep thoughts?” Peter asked.
“I dunno,” Tina replied vaguely, “I don’t think Crescentina Dreamheart is my real name.”
Peter looked at her askance, as if he wasn’t sure how serious she was being, “How can you not be sure what your own name is?”
“Well, I know it’s my name, or, it definitely feels like it, but I just suddenly seemed to remember it being something else.”
“Memories of a past life?”
“Yeah, that’s what it feels like, only, like the past life was just last week. It seems like a lot of things changed all at once, so now I’m in a different world.” She looked around, frowning at the buildings and trees as if they were hiding something from her.
“Is it a better world?”
Tina turned to face him, “Oh, for sure!”
“Then what’s the problem?”
She stopped to think for a while. “I guess there isn’t one,” she finally replied with something of a laugh, “Everything’s perfect.”
“That’s what I thought,” Peter said, and took Tina’s hand in his.
She smiled blissfully at him and they walked a long time together down the sunny street.