His Pretty Storyteller
Red
Gerard's POV
Every day is a struggle to get up. I mean, let's be honest here. There are days when you just want to sleep, cuddle with someone under the covers, and just stay in bed the whole day, but you can't because you have to get up and yeah, live. I keep reminding myself every day that I have to get up, fight the irresistible pull of my bed, and do my job. Working as an illustrator, even at a small publishing house, was not an easy thing.
I had this wonderful job where I do what I love, but my real dream is to become a successful writer someday. You know, publish a best-selling book and just spend my days living off of my royalty fees. I want to become the next Suzanne Collins or Cassandra Clare or J.K Rowling.
Who wouldn't want that?
Writing fictional stories, communicating with other people through written down imagination, leaving a magical legacy, and tons of people remembering you for your stories. If that isn't a good dream then kill me because it's the only thing I want to be. I want to write the next big thing in the world of writers but heck, for now, I'm still struggling as an author and illustrator of children's books.
Have I published my own book, you ask? Well, yeah, twice. But they were co-authored with another writer because my boss won't risk it yet. He doesn't want to publish a book solely written and illustrated by a single person. His reason? I don't know, and frankly, I don't care. The books' sales are pretty average, but I pay no mind to it. For me, they were a start to my dreams. Besides, I'm happy and contented that I have this job, because I really enjoy what I'm doing. I think of this job as my stepping stone into becoming the well-known writer that I want to be. For now, this will do.
So there I was, struggling to get up at five in the morning because I still had a deadline that day that I had to meet. I got up from bed, washed my face and tried to summon the little Gerard persona that is diligent enough, talented enough, and motivated enough to do the work. I made a huge mug of coffee, sat at my old drawing table, and started to draw. I went through my latest project, another children's book titled, "Timmy and the Timekeeper". It was just another educational children's book about time management. I chuckled to myself as I started drawing the last two pages of the book. Well, fuck me, because this was ironic, since I barely make it to my deadlines. I worked continuously, never letting myself get distracted until I finished it. I looked through my drawings and sighed in contentment. This one's pretty easy. Almost all children's books have large details and rarely have intricate ones, so I was quite confident that this would make it. I rubbed my tired eyes and checked the time while yawning. It was almost 8 am. I needed to turn in my drawings at 9 am. I got up from my seat and took a shower.
Freshly-showered and wearing whatever I had pulled from the pile of clothes on my floor, I made my way to work.
Ten minutes after nine, I walked into my boss' office. Seated behind the desk was Patrick. He's still pretty young, maybe a year or two older than me, but is already successful in his field. We don't say it, but I know Patrick's a friend. I've been working for him for two years now, and all that time,there was never a moment when he was mad at me or anything, even when I messed some things up. Mostly just irritated, yeah, but he never once showed me that I was an expendable person in his company.
As usual, he was hunched down on his desk, possibly writing, editing or doing paperwork. He didn't notice me at first because he was so absorbed in his work.
"Nice hat you're wearing today boss,." I greeted him. He eyed me and the folder I was holding before checking the time on his wristwatch. I sat down and looked at him, waiting for anything he had to say.
"Thanks and as usual, you're late again," he said. I handed him the folder and shyly smiled at him.
"I'm sorry boss. I got stuck in traffic," I tried to excuse. So cliche, Gee. So cliche.
"Stuck in traffic, or you just finished these this morning? Haven't you learned anything from Timmy yet?" He teased. I laughed at his remark.
"Come on boss, that book is the most ironic thing I've ever worked on. And it's not even my own story," I said as I watched him opening the folder and looking at my work.
As he flipped through my drawings, he kept a poker face. It was always like that. I'll admit it, even after years of working for him, I still got pretty nervous when he looked through my work. Patrick is huge perfectionist. His eye for detail is amazing, even though he isn't an illustrator himself. In a way, I was glad for that because it forced me to do my best on the job and frankly, it helped me so I could be a better artist.
Even then, I still thought that one day, my works would rejected and I'd have to start again or worse, I'd be replaced. I was terrified of the idea of being fired, so I sat there looking equally terrified while my fingers fidgeted on my lap. What if he doesn't like it? What if it looks rushed? What if he's tired of my eternally late-to-work ass? I looked at Patrick only to find out that he was staring at me with a worried face.
"Well, are you okay Gerard?" He said. I smiled weakly and shook my head.
"Uhm, you see, your work is..." His voice trailed off. I stared at him, anticipating a rejection, beads of sweat starting to form on my forehead. How can a set of drawings for a child fuck me up? Fuck. Did I mess up?
Then the unexpected happened.
He laughed. Patrick laughed. And there I was, dumbfounded and unable to show any emotion except for pure terrifying confusion. He saw my face and he laughed harder. I waited for two minutes before he decided that whatever he was laughing at was not funny anymore.
"Gerard, you keep getting better at your job and I find it silly that you still worry that I'll reject your work," he smirked while trying to hold in another fit of laughter.
"If you only knew the face you were making earlier, trust me, you'd laugh your ass off too," he said. I smiled widely and let myself relax.
"Damn boss, I thought you were going to reject it. I mean, I can never be so sure since we're dealing with different writers here and you know, I'll never know if they like it or not until I show it to you,." I explained.
"If that's the case then your next project is your own book—"
"You mean my own? Like, I get to write it and illustrate it myself?" I cut him off. He smiled and nodded.
"Yes, I know what you really want in life. I'm just sorry that I didn't give you the chance before. You see, we have to stay safe with the kids books and all. It's a gamble to publish books that aren't targeted at our current readers. Add the fact that it's a debut novel, and it will be a huge risk to publish," he explained. I stared at him, stunned with his words. He was giving me a chance to work on something on my own. He was giving me a shot at my dreams. He was silent as if he was waiting for my reaction. I did even know what to say so I just smiled widely.
"Thanks boss. I don't know what to say... It's an honor to be trusted by you... I'll try and make this work. Thank you," I said. I couldn't contain my happiness right then.
"It's a chance, Gerard. So you better make it work okay? Meanwhile, I'll show these drawings to the author, then I'll let you know how that goes. You'll get your pay after she approves. Also, I'm only giving you two months to present your own story. Got it?"
"Yes boss!" I answered back with an enthusiasm that even shocked my own self. I smiled and got up, shook his hand, and thanked him. I walked outside his office with the cheesiest grin on my face.
Gerard Arthur Way, this is your chance now. Someone's willing to gamble for you. Someone's willing to help you accomplish your dreams. Don't mess this up.
It wasn't totally weird to talk to myself. Not totally weird at all.
My mind was already buzzing with ideas for my own book. I was really excited for my latest project but more importantly, coffee. I drove away from the publishing house and went straight to my favorite coffee shop on my street. "This day couldn't get better," I whispered to myself.
Every day is a struggle to get up. I mean, let's be honest here. There are days when you just want to sleep, cuddle with someone under the covers, and just stay in bed the whole day, but you can't because you have to get up and yeah, live. I keep reminding myself every day that I have to get up, fight the irresistible pull of my bed, and do my job. Working as an illustrator, even at a small publishing house, was not an easy thing.
I had this wonderful job where I do what I love, but my real dream is to become a successful writer someday. You know, publish a best-selling book and just spend my days living off of my royalty fees. I want to become the next Suzanne Collins or Cassandra Clare or J.K Rowling.
Who wouldn't want that?
Writing fictional stories, communicating with other people through written down imagination, leaving a magical legacy, and tons of people remembering you for your stories. If that isn't a good dream then kill me because it's the only thing I want to be. I want to write the next big thing in the world of writers but heck, for now, I'm still struggling as an author and illustrator of children's books.
Have I published my own book, you ask? Well, yeah, twice. But they were co-authored with another writer because my boss won't risk it yet. He doesn't want to publish a book solely written and illustrated by a single person. His reason? I don't know, and frankly, I don't care. The books' sales are pretty average, but I pay no mind to it. For me, they were a start to my dreams. Besides, I'm happy and contented that I have this job, because I really enjoy what I'm doing. I think of this job as my stepping stone into becoming the well-known writer that I want to be. For now, this will do.
So there I was, struggling to get up at five in the morning because I still had a deadline that day that I had to meet. I got up from bed, washed my face and tried to summon the little Gerard persona that is diligent enough, talented enough, and motivated enough to do the work. I made a huge mug of coffee, sat at my old drawing table, and started to draw. I went through my latest project, another children's book titled, "Timmy and the Timekeeper". It was just another educational children's book about time management. I chuckled to myself as I started drawing the last two pages of the book. Well, fuck me, because this was ironic, since I barely make it to my deadlines. I worked continuously, never letting myself get distracted until I finished it. I looked through my drawings and sighed in contentment. This one's pretty easy. Almost all children's books have large details and rarely have intricate ones, so I was quite confident that this would make it. I rubbed my tired eyes and checked the time while yawning. It was almost 8 am. I needed to turn in my drawings at 9 am. I got up from my seat and took a shower.
Freshly-showered and wearing whatever I had pulled from the pile of clothes on my floor, I made my way to work.
Ten minutes after nine, I walked into my boss' office. Seated behind the desk was Patrick. He's still pretty young, maybe a year or two older than me, but is already successful in his field. We don't say it, but I know Patrick's a friend. I've been working for him for two years now, and all that time,there was never a moment when he was mad at me or anything, even when I messed some things up. Mostly just irritated, yeah, but he never once showed me that I was an expendable person in his company.
As usual, he was hunched down on his desk, possibly writing, editing or doing paperwork. He didn't notice me at first because he was so absorbed in his work.
"Nice hat you're wearing today boss,." I greeted him. He eyed me and the folder I was holding before checking the time on his wristwatch. I sat down and looked at him, waiting for anything he had to say.
"Thanks and as usual, you're late again," he said. I handed him the folder and shyly smiled at him.
"I'm sorry boss. I got stuck in traffic," I tried to excuse. So cliche, Gee. So cliche.
"Stuck in traffic, or you just finished these this morning? Haven't you learned anything from Timmy yet?" He teased. I laughed at his remark.
"Come on boss, that book is the most ironic thing I've ever worked on. And it's not even my own story," I said as I watched him opening the folder and looking at my work.
As he flipped through my drawings, he kept a poker face. It was always like that. I'll admit it, even after years of working for him, I still got pretty nervous when he looked through my work. Patrick is huge perfectionist. His eye for detail is amazing, even though he isn't an illustrator himself. In a way, I was glad for that because it forced me to do my best on the job and frankly, it helped me so I could be a better artist.
Even then, I still thought that one day, my works would rejected and I'd have to start again or worse, I'd be replaced. I was terrified of the idea of being fired, so I sat there looking equally terrified while my fingers fidgeted on my lap. What if he doesn't like it? What if it looks rushed? What if he's tired of my eternally late-to-work ass? I looked at Patrick only to find out that he was staring at me with a worried face.
"Well, are you okay Gerard?" He said. I smiled weakly and shook my head.
"Uhm, you see, your work is..." His voice trailed off. I stared at him, anticipating a rejection, beads of sweat starting to form on my forehead. How can a set of drawings for a child fuck me up? Fuck. Did I mess up?
Then the unexpected happened.
He laughed. Patrick laughed. And there I was, dumbfounded and unable to show any emotion except for pure terrifying confusion. He saw my face and he laughed harder. I waited for two minutes before he decided that whatever he was laughing at was not funny anymore.
"Gerard, you keep getting better at your job and I find it silly that you still worry that I'll reject your work," he smirked while trying to hold in another fit of laughter.
"If you only knew the face you were making earlier, trust me, you'd laugh your ass off too," he said. I smiled widely and let myself relax.
"Damn boss, I thought you were going to reject it. I mean, I can never be so sure since we're dealing with different writers here and you know, I'll never know if they like it or not until I show it to you,." I explained.
"If that's the case then your next project is your own book—"
"You mean my own? Like, I get to write it and illustrate it myself?" I cut him off. He smiled and nodded.
"Yes, I know what you really want in life. I'm just sorry that I didn't give you the chance before. You see, we have to stay safe with the kids books and all. It's a gamble to publish books that aren't targeted at our current readers. Add the fact that it's a debut novel, and it will be a huge risk to publish," he explained. I stared at him, stunned with his words. He was giving me a chance to work on something on my own. He was giving me a shot at my dreams. He was silent as if he was waiting for my reaction. I did even know what to say so I just smiled widely.
"Thanks boss. I don't know what to say... It's an honor to be trusted by you... I'll try and make this work. Thank you," I said. I couldn't contain my happiness right then.
"It's a chance, Gerard. So you better make it work okay? Meanwhile, I'll show these drawings to the author, then I'll let you know how that goes. You'll get your pay after she approves. Also, I'm only giving you two months to present your own story. Got it?"
"Yes boss!" I answered back with an enthusiasm that even shocked my own self. I smiled and got up, shook his hand, and thanked him. I walked outside his office with the cheesiest grin on my face.
Gerard Arthur Way, this is your chance now. Someone's willing to gamble for you. Someone's willing to help you accomplish your dreams. Don't mess this up.
It wasn't totally weird to talk to myself. Not totally weird at all.
My mind was already buzzing with ideas for my own book. I was really excited for my latest project but more importantly, coffee. I drove away from the publishing house and went straight to my favorite coffee shop on my street. "This day couldn't get better," I whispered to myself.
Notes
I've updated twice today. Hurray! Well I won't blabber here anymore but maybe you could leave a little comment about what you think of the story? Thanks :) So good night and take care! :)
--xoJenn
@Helena Way
ilyt <3
12/22/16