[beverent]

Synopsis: Confession is hard to do. It is much harder when you know what will happen next. Will facing the truth be the solution or will it be forever hidden behind a mask?



I thought my feelings were just in a state of confusion. I have always been honest with myself. I say what I want and I do what I want to do. Without realizing it, I am slowly hiding myself behind my fake appearance. What I'm feeling is just an unnecessary thought. I don't need to feel this. But at that instance, at that particular moment, everything bursts outside. I lost control.

Last night, I did something unnecessary, uncalled for. I was beside myself. We were just having a casual drink. The bar was dim and solemn. And at that corner of the wide room where we both sat behind a round table, I felt free and relaxed. After emptying a bottle of beer, I glanced in her direction, gazed at her face and saw something in there. I leaned towards her; I could hear her voice asking me "what's the problem?" but at that time all I cared about was to touch her face and get close to the strange light it reflected.

I kissed her.

It was brief. It was pure. It was something for me. I could still feel her lips on mine when I felt her hand against my cheek. It was hard and painful. I looked at her but she already stood up and walked away. All I could do at that time is watch her back as she drifted farther away from me. I couldn't bring myself to follow her, to apologize for something that had satisfied my search for the truth. But I was hurting inside. The truth is much harder to bear when it gives you the feeling of rejection.




I haven't seen her since that night. I don't have the courage to call her. It's already been two weeks but I felt that it's just been yesterday. How foolish of me, really... I continued on my work as an independent writer for a magazine. I only have part time jobs because of my inability to stabilize my life. Everything is temporary. She would always tell me to find a decent job. And I would always argue that I didn't want something permanent.

'She's the nearest to permanent,' I thought. How many years have we been together? Ten? Ah, that's too long. Friends forever, she always said.

And my greediness had broken it all.

"Hey..."

I looked up and smiled. It was her brother. He pulled up the chair opposite to mine and placed his tray of burger and fries on the table, near my laptop. We were inside a burger restaurant where I am currently finishing an article due tomorrow.

"I haven't seen you around in our lot," he said. He glanced at the laptop. "How's work?"

"Work is work," I joked. I looked at my watch. "How are you?"

"I just arrived last week from Singapore. I'm taking a vacation now."

"That's good."

"Come over tomorrow. You didn't forget Lia's birthday, did you?" he teased.

I laughed, hollow and empty. I quickly shut my laptop and put it inside my bag pack. Her brother stared at me, surprised.
Ten years is too long, but not close enough to forever. I made up my mind.

"I'll see you tomorrow," I said. "I'm sorry but I need to do something."

I dashed towards the door. I quickly called out a taxi. I'll be going in a place where I can wish and ask her to come back to me. I could almost hear her laughter and she will tell me...

"Friends forever."





"So, what's up with you? Tell us something about your work. It's rare for us to talk to a writer."

I smiled as I placed my glass of wine on the oak table around which we sat, talking about life and everything people want to talk about.

This is really boring, I said to myself. I'm not really paying attention on my social life and it was awkward for me to talk about myself in front of other people I barely know. It was usually her who likes this kind of gathering.

"I'm just writing articles and stuff for the magazines who asked me to do a piece of job. It's not that exciting," I said.

They nodded in agreement but I could see in their eyes that they were not satisfied with my answer. Thankfully, no one seemed to be eager to continue on the topic. I heard one of them commenting about some of the magazines and most of them jumped instantly to share their opinions, all wanting to participate. And so the talk led to their favorite models, artists, and so on. I simply listened to their conversations, nodding occasionally, laughing when they all laughed, and agreeing on things I didn't have any clue about.

"This crowd is lively."

I froze. But the others cheered and laughed as she finally approached our table.

"You're one busy girl," one of them commented. Laugh again.

"I thought we'll never see the birthday girl. And it's freezing here!" Laugh again.

She smiled sweetly to everyone, though I didn't see her face, but I knew that's what she'd do. I tried to look happy and unconcerned, but my fingers were trembling. This is not funny.

"You're one year closer to your death!" I said amidst the greetings.

They all stopped and looked at me. Their eyes were all all practically screaming, 'What the hell was that? Nice one, writer.'

She stared at me. My eyes instantly avoided her gaze.

"Well, happy birthday," I conceded.

It was supposed to be a joke. And she was supposed to know it is a joke. After all, that's our joke. It's us.

I don’t remember much of what happened after my little blunder that time on her birthday. I continued to ignore the awkwardness I always felt whenever she talked to me. I was surprised. She talked to me like nothing happened between us. Her casual attitude relieved me, yet something has pierced me inside. It was nothing for her. Nothing.

While everyone was busy inside, I went outside the villa, smoked the cigarette I brought for my convenience if ever I badly needed it, and stood beside the bronze gate, staring at the starless sky above me. If only I could be a star; then I could just watch her forever, without me feeling so helpless and unsatisfied. I wanted some distance. A distance that could separate me from her scent and from her face and from her smile. A distance I know I could never cross so I would never wish to get close to her whenever I looked at her. This is really not funny.

“Don’t get too sullen, especially when it’s my birthday.”

I looked at her. She stood right next to me, her hands holding a basket full of strawberries. I nearly coughed as I began to laugh. It was the closest I have been to being true. She laughed with me.

“This is the worst gift you’ve ever given me,” she said, her eyes watering as she tried to control her laughter.

“I tried my best,” I answered.

“And you’re smoking, too. It’s not like you.” Her tone was stern, but her eyes were still warm and tender.

I threw the cigarette down and looked above me. “Yeah, recently I haven't been myself.”

She held my hand with both of hers. I could almost feel her face near me as her long, black hair brushed against my cheeks. I closed my eyes, not wanting to be deceived, to be hurt.

“Let’s stay friends.” She slowly held my face with her hand. “This is what we should do.”

I nodded.

“I figure that’s your biggest joke, right?”

I nodded.

“I should think of something better to beat that.”

I smiled, my eyes still closed. I’m afraid that if I opened them, she would realize that I’m serious. That I love her. And it’s something I couldn’t tell. Because, I knew, it would hurt her to leave me.

“Hey, you want to pick more strawberries?” I asked.

“That would be nice,” she answered, her voice light and happy.

“Well then, come with me tomorrow,” I said. “Strawberries this season are the best. After all, it was your favorite thing, right?”

“Yeah.”

And with that, we went back inside her house, her hand still holding my hand. I’ll manage somehow. This searing pain in my chest would soon be gone. I hope…

[Jimbalaya]

I think this might be the first thing I've ever read, as far as stories go, that didn't have any names in it at all. It was quite jarring and actually hurt the story. There are parts here and there where you used "her" or "him" when a name should have been used. The whole read I was waiting for a name, looking for one, but didn't find it. I think if you put some names to the characters, the story would flow a lot better.

The dialogue was a little blocky, it didn't really feel natural. I kept thinking that somone was reading from a script. Try to inflect a little more feeling into the dialogue. When you talk to someon, or overhear a conversation, pay clost attention to it, listen to how poeople talk and try to duplicate that in the voice and dialogue of your work.

I didn't find too many punctuation errors and you appear to be very good at that or at least took the time to edit it. Nice job.

There were some places that I just couldn't make heads or tails out of and could not figure out what you meant or what it had to do with the story. Maybe you could go through this one more time. Try to be as detached as you can be. Forget that you wrote the story and just read it, see what you come up with.

I think that the biggest thing for me was the lack of introductions to the characters, and the lack of names. All of a sudden there is a guy, then there is a girl, he kisses her, she runs off, reporters come, then there is some kind of birthday party. While you have some pretty good descriptions, there are not a lot of them, it is a very stripped down and basic story. I think if you fleshed it out, added more details (use the senses: Sight, smell, touch, hearing...) and introduced your characters a bit more (and gave them names) this could be the start of a pretty decent story.

Do not be afraid of too much description, it is a rare thing when you can over-describe a scene, situation, or characters. The more description, the more captivating your story will become.

Keep pluggin' away at it, you will only get better and better.

[beverent]

Hello Jimbalaya... Thank you for your comments and suggestions. I was actually waiting for someone to comment on this one.

You suggested that I put on names on the characters. Well, this story is about confusion and well, I'm sorry but I just can't go on with the names. But I think you would realize that I've mentioned a name. Lia. Yup, that's the girl the narrator loves. and it was her brother who talked to our writer here. Well, its only the explanation i've got coz i might spill details the readers should realize... I've never even mentioned who really is the narrator. Yes, all we know is that the narrator is a writer. And I think that is enough in this story. It has continuation though I forgot to mention. Just check the next one to this and I think you will understand better. *smiles*

You also mentioned reporters I've never written reporters on this one. I think you just misread this or misinterpreted. Well, try reading this again. And I think you will follow the flow of the story.


My dialogue is really straight forward. I also feel that it was somewhat empty... I'll try to improve it. Thanks again for the comment

[Lubesh]

Hi,

firstly let me commend you on a not unique, but for me, refreshign change of tack. I enjoyed this and was held throughout just by the style, it is what it is least to me and as it grew became more ethereal almost but real or your style certainly gave it added impotus. Touching and not overdone with the clutter which would ahve spoiled your intent maybe..I suk at this but I enjoyed it.

[beverent]

thanks lubesh for your comment... haha thought i'd recieve some corrections but a praise (?) coming from you... im honored. well, yeah you got my point exactly. Giving too much would really spoil something in this story. well thanks again.

[RENA HANDS]

Will facing the truth be the solution or will it forever (hide) hidden behind a mask? (I think it should be ‘hide’ or some other word.)

On just a superficial look, the spacing bothers me. There’s too much in between the paragraphs. Unless this serves a purpose I strongly recommend changing it.

Some constriction here…

I say and do what(ever) I want.

How can one ‘slowly’ hide behind a mask? What about…

I am concealing myself, my true self behind a mask. ?

Is this a new sentence…But (but) at that time… ?

What about……

I cared about was touching her face, moving closer to that strange light it reflected. ?

I think you could combine some of your short sentences/ideas.

What about throwing in to make more personal…

It was (something) just for me. ?

Possibly change some of the actions around; you were at the restaurant then her brother approaches as you were doing what…

Is your main character looking up from the laptop? If so then…

Describe his tone, then line of speech. I glanced up from the laptop?

Just caught this, why would he care to look at your laptop?

Again, combination…

I joked looking at my watching. ?

Where you are ‘closing’ the laptop, your sentence’s length is off.

Maybe some *** where you are starting, showing a new scene.

You are being very repetitive where you could be straight to the point. (I am speaking about your ‘party scene/conversation.’)

I think you mean…I don’t remember much of what happened after my little blunder on her birthday. (Just something more flowing.)

An extremely interesting story. Almost anyone who has wanted to be loved or has been in love can relate to this situation. I think there remains some grammar and punctuation errors, but ask an actual editor about this. You were repeating, as I am being now, but I suppose it’s necessary for this write you have posted. I will give 3/5!

[Zoidberg]

Here's my post, as promised.

First of all: Your writing is very good. I noticed no errors really, and I like your style.

Also, your narration is very good, but your dialogue does need a little work. Just at some parts it doesn't seem so fluid or realistic.

About you not using any names, although it does sometimes make reading it a little confusing or makes it look a little messy, it's part of your style and I don't think it absolutely has to change for this piece.

A little background on the characters would be nice, but this story is just a sort of (I think I may actually coin a word for this,) fragmentort (I just made that up). Its a story that describes a mood, theme, or idea, without having a basic storyline or characters (if there is an actual term for this type of writing someone let me know), which is perfectly fine.

So there was my review, and I hope you'll return the favor.

[beverent]

thank you rena for your suggestions and corrections. I am really pleased that this story interests you. You've got few corrections that I think are detailed and would help me a lot improve in this one and even in my writing. Thank you

[beverent]

well dan, i am glad you liked the story and my style of writing. hehehe. i'm quite flustered right now. hahaha

you're right in assuming that this story is just a fragment of something bigger. i'm thinking of making other stories related to this. i dunno if that'll work though. you've also mentioned about the dialogues... hmmm... i'm thinking about it now. well thanks again for this review and i would gladly make reviews for your works , just PM me whenever you got something/