Two bare-chested, seventeenish looking boys peek over the desktop. “Excuse us, are we in the right place?”
“This is different. Can’t say as I’ve seen the two of you up here before. You boys-who-don’t-get-blown-up tend to stick to the corners of the room. Ms. Wildstar is really making sure you all get a turn, isn’t she?”
They nod nervously and stand at the very edge of the desk.
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to blow you up again just for asking a question. Out with it.”
“What are two-” starts one boy
“Songs from your playlist that-” says the other
“You feel are connected with your novel-”
“And why?”
“Wow, you guys are a regular little interviewing duo, aren’t you? That’s really annoying. Maybe I should blow you up again.”
One backs up half a step and teeters on the edge. The other catches him, pulling him back to safety.”
“I’m kidding. Maybe.” I shuffle through the items on my desktop. “Where is that music device… Behind the Scorpius bobblehead? He says yes, but he always says yes. No. Behind this awesomely foiled sun and moon birthday card from six years ago? No. Behind my repurposed empty tissue box that holds pens and pencils? No. Oooh that’s right. I don’t have one. I write in silence. I love silence. How the heck am I supposed to hear you guys yammering in my head if I have music playing?”
The boys yelp and fling themselves over the edge.
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