Page 3 of For the Plot
I made it a point not to ever seek out reviews. I knew that was just asking for a mental breakdown. Reviews were for readers, and I didn’t need to know all the negative things people felt about my writing. Not every book was for every person, and I knew there were people out there whodidenjoy my writing, so that was good enough for me.
But every now and then, a review would slip through the cracks and I'd see them. You can’t avoid random reviews coming across your feed as a chronically online twenty something, and you definitely can’t avoid those awful posts when the reader tags you in their negative rant, forcing you to see their list of all the ways your writing was cringy and unbelievable to them. Or that your fat characters just needed to lose weight. That one was always the most annoying.
What you could never protect yourself from, however, was a famous BookTokker putting out a video that goes viral. A video where they absolutely shred your book apart and go on and on about how terrible the sex scenes were. Not just cringy and unrealistic, but written like someone who has never had sex.
Well, you got me there.
My worst nightmare had come true, but I was too chickenshit to do anything about it—not that there was really anything I could do about it directly. The Review happened not long after my second book was released last fall, and all I did was try to forget about it and retreat into my shell. I posted the bareminimum I needed to keep my social media accounts afloat, and nothing more.
I should have probably talked to a therapist about it, but I never seemed to get around to it. I hadn’t spoken to one since I first got diagnosed with ADHD around 21 and tried meds. Unfortunately, the first try hadn't worked and I’d felt defeated, so I gave up instead of continuing to try like I knew I should have. I also accidentally ghosted the therapist and was too embarrassed to try to go back, so I just… never did.
And now here we were. I had been outed as the imposter I was, and I couldn’t even write my next book. And if I couldn’t write my next book, my career was over before it had even really started.
I closed my eyes, breathing in and out in four-second intervals, using the only calming technique I had gotten from my therapist that actually took. Four seconds, in and out, over and over until the tornado of thoughts in my head slowed to a normal speed. Well, normal for me. It was still probably a little chaotic up there to anyone who didn’t have the same brain.
Getting up, I briefly glanced at myself in the full-length mirrored, sliding closet doors. I took in the dark circles under my eyes, my sallow skin, the greasy knotted hair thrown into a haphazard bun on the top of my head. At least with my black hair it wasn’t as easy to notice just how greasy it was and how bad I needed to take a shower.
Not like that mattered here. My roommates wouldn’t even notice. My gaze dropped down to my chest, and I remembered I wasn’t wearing a bra. I threw on my comfiest sports bra before walking out into the common area.
Will, Collins, and James all sat on the couch, yelling at whatever was on the TV, beers in hand. I glanced over to see what it was and laughed under my breath when I sawRuPaul’s Drag Race.
Yes, I did live with three male roommates, but it wasn’t the typical situation you probably imagined. Sure I lived with three men, but they were the greatest guys ever and all four people in this house were queer as fuck.
As I passed the couch in the open concept living/dining room on my way to the kitchen, Collins looked up and caught my eye, sending me a wink, his blue eyes gleaming with mirth. I responded by sticking my tongue out at him. Collins and I had hit it off the second we met, the two messes we were, and now I would say he was probably my best friend.
You might wonder how I ended up with three roommates, but you try living in Orange County. You were either rich as fuck, married to someone rich as fuck, or had roommates. You could probably guess which category I fell into. Will and I had been close friends since high school. He had transferred in as a sophomore and, as a nerd and one of the only Black kids there, had struggled to fit in. My twin Noah and I, being two of the nerdiest people at the school, bonded with him right away. After college, he needed to find a place, and I was desperate to get out of my house.
Listen, I love my family more than life but living with your parents and four siblings is not exactly the life you want to live in your early twenties. I had gone to school locally and stayed at home through all four years to save money, and was so ready to get out.
Will brought in Collins, the best friend he had met in college, and we had planned to find a place just the three of us. But then we stumbled across a perfect four-bedroom unit that we just couldn’t pass up. We put up an ad to find a fourth person, and James had answered. And so our little quartet had formed, and four years later here we still were.
I grabbed a Gatorade from the fridge, not being big on alcohol—much preferring weed if I wanted a buzz—and made my wayto the living room. Will and James nodded hello as I plopped onto the couch next to Collins, laying my head on his shoulder, weaving my arm through his tattoo-covered arm.
“How did your writing session go, NikNak?” Collins asked.
James had started calling me that when he first moved in and found my collection of random knickknacks, and discovered I was a magpie always searching for the shiniest things. The name had then of course been picked up by Will and Collins as well, and it had stuck.
I grunted in response, and Will glanced over with a sympathetic look. “That bad, huh?”
“I’m never going to write again. I may as well just quit now.”
“You could always start selling feet pics.” Collins wiggled his brows at me, light brown hair flopping into his eyes.
I gave him a punch to the arm. “Oh, thank you, how helpful.”
“What? I’m serious!” He held his arms up, swerving my second punch. James and Will finally pulled their attention away from the show to see what all the commotion was.
“Don’t think I won’t fight you just because you’re huge,” I snapped back. A lascivious grin bloomed on his face, and I used my palm to push his face away. “Oh, grow up, I was talking about you being tall and beefy, not your dick. I'm sure it's very average.”
Collins wiggled his eyebrows. “Beefy, am I? I promise, the package matches the rest of the body.”
Will chimed in. “What are you saying about feet pics?”
Before I could respond, Collins told him, “Oh, just that our Nikki here is going to quit writing and start selling feet pics instead.”
“Ooh, OK, a career change, that could be fun.” Will nodded along with a straight face, playing along with Collins. “Bet you I could make more.”
“You both suck. Come on, James, back me up here!”
