"Fallon! Fallon Jewel Voldacy!"

I jerk my head up, dropping my headphones on the table.

"Did someone call my name?!"

"Someone's been calling your name for the past fifteen minutes!"

I roll my eyes.

"Doubt it."

"Don't sass me and get your ass out here! Now!"

I stand up, dragging myself into the living room of me and my friend Tuesday's flat.

"What?!"

"Guess who found us a job!"

"It better not be at some strip club or I'm going to lose my shit on you, Tues."

Tuesday waves her hand in dismissal before dragging me by the arm.

"Ow! I just got my tattoo done there!"

"Ahh! Sorry!"

She pats my head before motioning I sit down.

I sigh, giving her a look.

"Yes...?"

"Okay. I found us a job at the bookstore! Isn't that fun?"

My mouth drops open slightly.

"This isn't because I like writing and reading, right? Do you think I look like someone who would work at a fucking library?!"

Tuesday looks at me.

Neon green hair, tattoos, and piercings.

"No? Come to think of it...you're extremely loud. But it'll help us pay for rent and college tuition!"

"How much could a library pay, Tuesday. Three bucks an hour?"

She smiles.

"Yeah! You were actually right about that." She pauses. "Well...we have a three hour shift! And we work four times a week."

"Which means we make 36 dollars. That's dog shit."

Tuesday rubs her temples.

"It's better than working at Home Depot!"

"Home Depot?!"

"Yeah! They payed 10 dollars an hour."

I slap my forehead.

"We would've made more in two days at Home Depot then we would've in a week at the library! Sometimes I wonder how the hell you got into Brown University."

Tuesday grimaces.

"My mom bribed them. I'm wealthy, not well educated, babes."

I release a breath, before looking at her again.

"When does the shift start?"

"Hmmm...now, actually!"

*******

As soon as we exit the apartment, I begin walking towards my motorcycle as Tuesday attempts to run after me in her five inch heels.

I turn my head over my shoulder, pulling my sunglasses from above my eyes.

"Why the hell are you wearing high heels?!"

"I don't know! First impressions?! I don't have any other shoes!"

I roll my eyes.

"How many times have I told you to buy a damn pair of sneakers?!"

Tuesday grimaces.

"They're ugly!"

"Whatever."

I climb onto my motorcycle, and Tuesday hurries after me.

"I'm coming! Scooch your big ass and let me on!"

I pull a helmet over my head, not before grinning at her.

"Funny. Today you aren't going to act like a sissy?"

Tuesday rolls her eyes, climbing on behind me before putting on a bright pink helmet.

"No, Fallon. Today I'm getting the attention of some hot men."

I rev the engine, snorting.

"You mean nerdy men? What kind of bad boy are you expecting to see at the damn library?"

"I don't know! But you're my type as a woman...so if I you're there maybe they'll be attracted to you and then I can steal them!" Tuesday yells back as we start speeding off down the road.

As we slow down near a red light, I turn my head to look at her.

"You think you're holding on tight enough?"

"I'm sorry! This is scary!"

I shake my head slightly, and she loosens her grip a little.

"We're almost there. Don't suffocate me."

"I won't!"

********

After a painful ride of Tuesday squeezing the absolute shit out of my ribs, we make it. To the library.

Ravishing Reads is what it's called.

I hate it with a passion.

I park my motorcycle, grimacing as I set my helmet down.

"Tues, what in the actual hell is this?!"

I turn around to see her almost fall off the side of the motorcycle, and she staggers towards me.

"A library!"

"Ravishing Reads?! That sounds like shit. I can tell you one thing. That this place ain't "ravishing" at all. It's plain ugly."

Tuesday sighs.

"Whatever. Come on Debby downer."

She grabs my arm again, dragging me towards the library.

I already know I'm going to hate this.

********

As soon as I walk in I get a whiff of old people scent. Like stale bread and some weird ass floral perfume that's way too strong.

I gag, and Tuesday slaps the back of my arm.

"Shh!"

I look up and see a shit ton of elderly people staring at me funny.

"I'd this what hip kids wear these days? She looks so punk."

"I thought it was emo, Sylvia!"

The old lady turns her head to her husband.

"No, Gerald, look! Her hair! It's green! Why does she have chains on her? Did she escape prison?! Gary! Bertha! Should we call the cops!?"

I stare at Tuesday blankly and she looks like she's about to burst out laughing.

"Emo?! Punk?! Do I look punk to you?!"

I grimace before turning my head around, my eyes catching on a black and gold notebook.

Woah.

I feel fixated to it, walking over to it.

I grab the notebook off the rack, examining it.

There's no others that look like this. Guess I'm lucky.

I wanted to start writing...why not in here?

Perfect.

I run back over to Tuesday who cocks her head to the side.

"What's that?"

"A notebook! I figured I could write in it."

Tuesday nods.

"Yeah! Great idea! We can buy it then clock in."

"Sounds like a plan."

*******

Five minutes later me and Tuesday get to the front of the line, and I drop down the notebook.

The lady at the register takes it, turning it around while looking for a barcode.

"Ma'am, where'd you find this? There's no barcode or anything."

"Oh. It was on the rack right there."

I point to a shelf and the lady squints, before handing it back to me.

"You might as well keep it. There's nothing in it and it looks brand new."

I shrug.

"Alright. Thanks."

"No problem."

She goes back to chewing gum and I look at Tuesday.

"That's strange, isn't it?"

"Yeah. But you have a free notebook!"

She grins and I shake my head with a small smile.

"You're too much."

"I think so too. But are you ready to work?"

I shake my head.

"I'm guessing I don't really have a choice."

Tuesday grins.

"And you guessed right!"

********

After a painful three hours of working with elderly people and annoying brats of children, me and Tuesday's shift is over.

I give her a look from the corner of my eye.

"All of that torture for eighteen dollars in total?! That's fucking terrible. Can I quit already?"

"I didn't think it was going to be that bad, okay?! I'm sorry!"

I shake my head silently, walking out the library door.

"Come on. I'd like to get back home so I can start writing. I'll use my new notebook."

Tuesday grins as she almost falls again.

"Sounds like a plan!"

********

I park the motorcycle in the garage, and Tuesday grimaces.

"I'm never riding on that death-bike again."

"I knew you wouldn't last. And besides, you didn't even find your badass man. Unless you count one of those middle aged white dudes as one."

She shakes her head rapidly.

"No! No, no, no! There was a man named Adam who would not quit hitting on me! I hated it!"

I tuck my helmet and my notebook under my arm.

"I bet you did. It doesn't happen to me because I'm not a blonde with big boobs."

Tuesday smiles.

"Thanks for calling me out. I'm a natural brunette FYI!"

Tuesday hurries after me into the elevator, and we ride up to the tenth floor.

Our apartment.

I open the door, and Tuesday slides out of her heels.

"Phew. Remind me to never wear those again...I probably got blisters!"

She branches off in a different direction, and I go to my room.

Time to start writing.

I haven't in like ages...I'm probably going to be rusty as hell.

I sit down at my desk, opening the notebook when an envelope falls out.

I jump slightly, jerking my head to look down at it.

Weird...how did I not notice that?

I pick it up, tearing it open.

A note and a pencil fall out, a sleek black pencil with intricate gold markings.

I pick it up, examining it.

Interesting.

I then unfold the note, reading the cursive handwriting.

Hi. My name is Ciel Reecho, and I'm giving you this book. If you found it your certainly lucky, saying anything or anyone you write about that is fictional will come to life. It was too much for me to handle...so I had to pass it down to somebody. Please take note, and keep this book safe. I can tell you something terrible will happen if you lose it after summoning your people into your world. Good luck!

- CR

My eye twitches, and I drop the letter in front of me.

That is absolute madness. There's no way my characters will come to life if I write in there.

I shake my head, opening it up to the first page.

Nice lined paper for me to put my books down on.

Time to create my characters...this will be a fantasy book.

The Seventh Crystal.

When four friends come across an ancient mirror, they meet Story, a woman who is stuck in her past. In order to save her, they have to go on a journey to find all seven crystals to put inside the mirror's frame to open it up. Will they save Story? Or will they suffer the same fate?

Good enough.

After writing it down with the black pencil, I begin to make my characters.

Indie Vesta:

A very goofy girl, full of dad jokes, sass, and smiles. Although she is very lighthearted in every terrible situation, Indie has pretty a pretty bad fear of blood. And gets scared at almost everything. Eighteen years old, blonde hair and silver eyes. Known for teasing people.

Arlo Brande:

More serious of the bunch, a no-nonsense and sarcastic type of girl. Will not take no for an answer. Very convincing do to her cunning and flirtatious manners. Nineteen years old, brown hair, red eyes, and a secret supernatural ability.

Darius Brock:

Can not take anything or anyone seriously, pretty damn rude, hostile, introverted, and emo. Not a nice person to be around according to everyone else. Twenty one years old, the eldest, silver hair with a black streak, blue eyes that he absolutely hates, and is surprisingly good at a lot of random things.

Jagger Trave:

The definition of a lunatic, though not sane, can be rational. Rarely. Attractive, but mental. Very flirtatious, scheming, impulsive, and overall lewd. What you'd see as a stoner bad boy/ Chad or Brad, but the more you get to know him the better he gets. Ish. Twenty years old with black hair and violet eyes, and actually enjoys long conversations with people. About death.

I lift my pencil up, letting out a sigh.

"That's enough for today. My head hurts. And I have class tomorrow."

I pause, my eyebrows furrowing.

I just said that aloud.

I'm turning psycho.

I'm talking to myself now.

I shake my head, dropping the pencil onto the notebook before changing into my pajamas.

I brush my teeth, take out my contacts, then shut off the bathroom lights.

I'll go say goodnight to Tuesday first.

I open my bedroom door, peaking my head out.

It's dead quiet.

Usually she'd be on some Instagram live or some shit.

I venture over to her room, knocking on the door lightly.

"Tues?"

No answer.

I peak the door open slightly, seeing her knocked out at her desk, snoring.

I silently shut the door, scrambling back to my room.

Someone's sleepy early.

I go inside my room, shutting the door.

I lay down in my bed, shutting off the lights before going to sleep.

********

"BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!"

I jolt my head up, realizing I'm on the wrong side of my bed.

My alarm's all the way over there.

I groan, scooching over to the other side of my bed when—

"Ahh!"

I let out a screech, and the person laying there jolts up, staring at me.

"What the hell?!"

"Oh my fucking god."

I scramble backwards, falling off the bed.

I land on something, hearing a high pitched yelp.

"Ouch!"

I look down, letting out another scream.

I jump up, running to the corner of my room to grab my old baseball bat, hearing the wood creak of my bedroom floor.

I whip around, swinging the bat.

I hear a loud whack, and then a thud.

"Ow, what the fuck?!"

I fall face first into the floor when I feel someone jump onto my back, straddling me before pointing a knife at me.

"Ugh! Who the hell are you?!"

I struggle against the woman, a girl with dark brown hair and pure red eyes.

"I should be asking you! What is your business here!"

I push the knife out of my face, grimacing.

"Tuesday?! Tuesday who the hell are these people in my room?! Did you invite some randos into our apartment?!"

I let out a yelp when she slaps me across the face.

"I am not a rando! Whatever the fuck that is! My name is Arlo Brande, and I demand you tell me who you are!"

My mouth drops open, and I shake my head slightly.

"Oh no. Oh no, no, no."

She snaps her head to the side, narrowing her eyes.

"What is it?!"

"You aren't real."

Arlo Brande.

The character I made up in that notebook last night. And...and she looks exactly like her. Dark brown hair, red eyes. Her personality is almost exactly the same.

That means—

"Blood!"

I shrink back at a loud scream, then running footsteps.

Arlo gets knocked off of me by a platinum haired girl, who's now gripping onto her for dear life.

"What the hell—"

"Indie?!"

I finish, and she stares at me.

"There's blood on the floor...it's...it's coming from me! I'm bleeding, I'm bleeding, I'm—"

She passes out, and I sit up.

Indie has an extreme fear of blood.

That makes sense.

As soon as I hear a stream of curses escape someone's mouth and their monotonous voice, my eyes snap on a man with silver hair and a black streak. Blue eyes.

"Darius?"

He looks at me, narrowing his eyes.

"You hit me with that bat you crazy bitch!"

Oh no.

I stand up, peering over to see who the hell was in my bed.

What. The. Fuck.

I see a man, shirtless, with dark black hair and violet eyes.

"Hey, hey, hey, darling! Isn't it a nice morning?"

"Jagger..."

"That's me!"

He grins, and I back away from all of them as they stare at me.

"How are you guys here?! Where the hell did you come from?!"

"The sky. Where the hell do you think we came from, lady?!"

I snap my head around to Arlo.

Sarcasm.

I roll my eyes, before glaring at Jagger.

"What the hell are you still doing in my bed?! Get out!"

"Okay, okay!"

He stands up and I let out a scream, throwing my hands over my eyes.

"But some clothes on!"

"Okay, okay, jeez! I thought I'd give the lovely lady a show!"

He starts laughing.

"Do you have something on?!"

"Yep!"

I snap my head around, and he now sits on my desk, looking through a neon green book.

"I wonder what this is!"

"Hey—that's my diary!"

"Diary?"

He looks up from it, a large smile snaking across his face.

"You must have some dirty secrets in here..."

"Give it back!"

"Not until you kiss me, baby! I'm all ears! Or should I say...all lips?"

He puckers his lips and I throw a pillow at his head, watching as he ducks and it hits my window with a thunk.

Indie sits up, looking around, disoriented.

"What?! What happened?!"

"You fainted from the sight of your own blood."

Indie stands up, staring at me, then Arlo, then Jagger, then Darius.

"What're you looking at?!"

"Sorry, grouch box."

She rolls her eyes, before looking at me.

"Who even is this chick?"

"My name is Fallon, and I created you. How does that sound?"

Jagger looks up from my diary again.

"Sounds like someone I'd want to kill...does it not? Kiss me and I won't kill you."

I give him a weird look, my eyes widening when I hear more footsteps.

"Fally?! Is that you?! Where you talking to?!"

"Umm...no one! No one, yeah!"

I see the door knob turning and my eyes widen.

"Fallon, are you okay?! You never lock your door!"

"I'm fine, just one second!"

I pull Jagger off my desk, before dragging Indie, Darius, and Arlo into the closet.

I shut the door, hearing a growl.

"Once you open the door, babe, I'll slit your throat for trapping me in here! Wait—Ooh! Never mind. I have a few pairs of your panties to look at."

I shiver, before running over to the door.

I open it, and Tuesday looks at me strangely.

"Class started twenty minutes ago. Just a—"

She looks down at my neck, stepping closer.

"What's this? On your neck?"

"Umm..." I look down, seeing a small slash. I didn't even feel that...it was probably Arlo when she was pointing that knife at me. "I probably got a paper cut."

"On your neck?"

Tuesday raises an eyebrow.

"That's fishy."

She walks past me, and into my bedroom, looking down at the pile of blood from Indie's nosebleed, and then Arlo's knife.

"What were you doing exactly?"

"It's not what it looks like! I promise! I'm not a killer!"

"Did you get your period? Or did you do something a little more...naughty?"

She grins, and I hear a sneeze from the closet, then a scream.

"Eek! Blood! I sneezed blood! I'm going to die! There's too much! There's—"

I hear a thud and the closet door flies open, Indie's body falling splat on the floor.

They all stare wide eyed at me and Tuesday, and Darius grabs Indie's body, dragging her back inside before slamming the closet door shut.

Tuesday moves her eyes to mine, and her eye twitches.

"You have a lot of explaining to do, Fallon."