::: Three years later...
"I don't know what you've got going on in your life that so important to have you slacking on your work, but you need to get it together. It's not just your ass on the line here. You have been with us for three years, you know the drill. The big heads like your story, but you have got to do the work. I need two hundred pages on my desk by the end of the week. No exceptions. Its Wednesday, I suggest you get started."
"See you later, Ann." She gathered her things and rushed out of the older woman's office.
Sitting in there listening to her was like getting a lecture from her mother, but Ann was right. Lyn dropped the ball, she already missed two deadlines and she was four hundred pages behind schedule. If she didn't kick it into gear she was going to miss her publish date...or worse. She couldn't let that happen. Her first book wasn't a complete failure, but it didn't get the attention she and her publishing company had hoped for. It really wasn't that bad of a book...or at least she didn't think so before they changed it.
She hopped on the elevator down to the lobby. Just as she stepped off, her phone rang.
"Hey." She answered.
"How'd it go?"
"As expected. Ann is pissed."
"Ann is always pissed. Where are you now?"
"I'm on my way to the subway. I think I'm going to stop off at the market to get some junk food. I'm stuck in the apartment for the rest of the week."
She stepped outside into the glacial air of New York. It was a good thing she was staying home the rest of the week; there was no way she was going to come out in this weather unless she absolutely had to. As much as she loved living in New York, there was no way she was leaving her apartment during the coldest month of the year for no reason at all, plus she loved her apartment. She was lucky she found it. The hunt for good affordable apartments was a difficult one. She scoffed just remembering it.
"Can I come see you?"
"No. I'll see you next week. I need to focus. I'm too far behind."
"Alright, call me when you get a chance."
She hung up.
**********************
Walking into her one bedroom apartment, Lyn dropped her coat, mail and keys on the inn table and carried fifty dollars worth of junk food snacks to her kitchen. Lyn was suffering from the worst case of writers block. All she did for the past month was stare at a blank screen. Nothing would come out. She had no ending in sight. Why she picked this profession, she'll never know.
There was a knock on the door.
"Here, you dropped this. It was in front of your door." Ryan said handing her an envelope and letting himself in.
"Thanks. Wait, why are you here?"
"Duh. I heard you come in." Ryan said.
"I told you not to come over."
"When have I ever listened to you? Plus were neighbors, it's my right to come over."
Ryan was the first person Lyn met when she moved to New York after graduation. He was her closest friend since college. He could read her like a book. Nothing got past him. He was just a little taller than her at 5'10" with blonde hair cropped short to his scalp, grey eyes and a lean muscular build she would love to get her hands on...if he wasn't gay, which she wouldn't have known if he didn't do everything, but say it to her.
Lyn looked down at the letter in her hand there was no return address. She tossed it aside. It was probably some kind of advertisement.
"Unless you came to write for me...I suggest you leave so I can get started."
"No I came for some advice."
"I'm in no position to give anyone advice."
"It's about Stevie."
"Stevie who? Is he new?"
"Stevie from the concert."
Lyn looked at him with crinkled eyebrows, "So what?"
"I didn't mention that I'm bisexual."
