"Travis, it's time for dinner! When you come down, bring your laundry, it's been piling up for too long! Your father's going to be late for dinner today again too."
I could faintly hear my mother's voice echoing up the stairs.
It's been two days since Melissa's love confession. Since it happened on Friday, I, unfortunately, had the whole weekend to mull over what happened. During that time, I was in a daze of mixed feelings. It never crossed my mind that Melissa could possibly be a fan of my work, but it made sense if the majority of the student body knew about it. But to think she could love an author just from his writing alone! I was in awe of her audacity.
My immediate thought was to reveal my identity right away. Why miss a chance when it comes along, am I right?
But after sleeping on the idea, it didn't sit right with me at all.
She only liked me -well, I say me, but I really mean the author's persona- because of how popular my work is. Imagine co-starring in a movie with a big-name actor, and after the movie becomes a hit, you're bombarded with notoriety. It feels good that you managed to hit it big, but after a while, you start to realize that if it weren't for the other actor you wouldn't have made it. It feels as though you never put in an appreciable amount of effort.
In a way, my situation felt the same. If I revealed my true identity to her, I had no doubt that she would go out with me. Then again, I would only be riding the coattails of my authoring persona, and not my own.
Melissa's side of things isn't any better. She wouldn't have any feelings that meant anything to her, other than the initial attraction to my work as an author. When you think about it that way, it's not likely that a healthy relationship could come of that. Besides my work as an author, I'm not very interesting as a person, so it would be completely understandable if she got tired of me after the first month of going out together.
So in the end, I spent the entire weekend agonizing over what to do, with nothing planned. The close of this Sunday was fast approaching. It was already dinner time. What am I going to do tomorrow?
"What's wrong, Travis? You look like you're at your wit's end." My mother's concerned inquiry jolted me back to my senses.
"Oh, it's nothing to worry about. Just a bit of study trouble."
"I see. Well, if there's anything I can do to help, just ask."
"Yeah, thanks, mom."
I returned my attention back to the broccoli that hovered in front of my face. It hung there, suspended from my fork, where it remained while I sat at the table, sunk into deep thought.
"Hey, mom?"
"Yes, dear?"
"What would you do, if you were really famous?"
"Where is this coming from?"
She didn't know, of course, where it could come from. I kept my authorship a secret from my parents. They hadn't the foggiest idea about what I did late at night, and thankfully they were never nosy enough to find out, but I have had a few close calls with my mother before.
The most notable incident was the time when I had my novel's website up on the screen of my computer as she walked into my bedroom. I managed to somehow explain it away as a passing fancy for web novels.
"A friend told me the story of a famous actor a couple of days ago. I was thinking about it over the weekend." I casually slid into the hypothetical question, acting as though I had friends. It's times like these when you have to rely on your mother, right? So a little white lie wouldn't hurt anyone.
"Hmm, let's see. First, I would leverage my influence to make as much money as possible, then get a big house for the family, then I would take everyone around the world, to the finest restaurants, to France, oh I always wanted to go to France..."
This was a mistake. I started something I shouldn't have.
"No no, I mean what would you do, if you met a fan that liked you... too much?"
I attempted to divert the impending calamity my mother was about to bring upon the household. She had a tendency to trail off for long periods of time on subjects she enjoyed, and oddly enough, France was one of them. If I didn't stop her now, she would go on for hours.
"Oh, okay..."
She despondently halted her spontaneous lecture on the Arch of Triumph and sighed.
"Well, I would politely tell them that I couldn't return their feelings... after all, I'm already married!"
I facepalmed. Of course, that's what she was going to say.
"If you weren't married, then?"
"I would still tell them I couldn't return their feelings."
"Fair enough, though not what I was looking for. Now let me add to the scenario the fact that you already like the fan that likes you."
Her eyes narrowed, as though trying to decipher the meaning of my interrogation. I felt a little anxious. Could she actually put two and two together?
"This is oddly specific, isn't it?
"I told you it was an actor, right? Of course it's going to be specific."
Narrowly dodged that one.
"Hmm, that's a tough one... because they might feel self-conscious about going out with someone so famous."
"What do you mean by that?" The broccoli disappeared into my mouth as I listened to my mother's explanation.
"Even if they liked me a lot, there would come a time when they would feel... how do I put this... bad, about not being as popular as the person they're dating... like they weren't good enough for them. It just wouldn't be a good time for them, that's all."
Wow, I didn't expect my mother to be so sensitive about these things.
"But at the same time, I like them, and they like me, right? So which is more important? Ensuring they don't have to live through that, or continuing to love each other... I would choose love." She said as she smiled cheerily. Of course, she would choose love regardless of the consequences. She's a romantic at heart.
"Thanks, I think that helped."
"Anytime, Travis."
My mother's words echoed in my head as I slept. Which was more important, love, or my and Melissa's wellbeing? Granted, the question I asked my mother was somewhat skewed from my situation, but it still elucidated some things.
The next morning, I had made up my mind: I would reveal my true identity. It may be a long shot, and it might not work out at first with my hectic deadlines, but maybe, just maybe, we could have a decent relationship.
That's what I thought until I arrived in class. My arrival was greeted by the boisterous infighting among a group of boys who were gathered around Melissa's desk. They were frantically pushing each other out of the way as they vied for her attention. The news of Melissa's love proclamation must have spread quickly over the weekend because I saw some first years in there as well. Their classroom was on the other side of the building!
"Melissa, how did you like my work, was it amazing or what?"
"What are you talking about, It's my novel, how could you impersonate me like that?"
"Don't listen to them, Melissa, I'm the one that wrote it!"
So I wasn't the only one with the idea to cash in on my notoriety. Some unsavory fellows got the nasty idea to masquerade as me. Of course, Melissa wouldn't believe any of them. Likewise, my chances of being taken at face value were flushed down the drain too. She would never believe me if I told her now.
Cheated of my chance, I flopped down onto my desk seat, and let out a long, despondent sigh. I glanced over at Melissa. Although she politely acknowledged the boy's claims, I could tell she was fed up with their pathetic dog and pony show. No matter what they tried, they hadn't the slightest chance of selling themselves off as me. Neither could I, for that matter. It made me want to cry.
Maybe this was for the better. I was being too rash in my decision to reveal myself since I lived for far too long in the shadows as an anonymous author, all to suddenly come out into the light. The massive amount of attention I'd get after the reveal would be annoying, and class would become unbearable to the point of torture.
After all, she probably only said it to get my attention. Ah, notoriety is such a fickle beast. It gives, but it also takes away. I wonder if a certain someone is the same way.
That sudden reality check sobered my train of thought. Maybe, what my mother said made sense. I turned my attention away from the stooges that accosted Melissa to my desk drawer to pull out my writing utensils.
All I needed now was my notebook. So I unzipped my bookbag as well. Gently, I nudged a copy of my novel out of the way to retrieve it. Earlier, I had bought the copy from a local bookstore. My plans were to look it over during lunch break to see if there were any formatting issues. It was a long time in coming, and I was excited to see what it looked like on the inside.
"Hey, um, Travis, right? Could you do something for me?"
The sudden use of my name caught me off guard. I raised my head to see Melissa standing in front of my desk, her hands bracing her weight by holding its edges. Her pose brought her eyes directly in line with mine. I tried not to look down, as her chest hung not half a meter in front of me.
"...hmm?"