THE LOUD ringing of her phone woke up Joanna. With half-lidded eyes, she looked for her phone that she remembered placing on top of her desk. When she can’t find it, she sat up and forced her eyes to open widely.

“Ah, I should adjust the scheduled waking time of my phone,” she said as she finds it. “Where did I put it? And, why do I always have to wake up like this?!” She banged her hand on her pillow. “Waking up from a ringing phone was so cliché. It has been used by many writers,” she said with a shake of her head. “And, it always happening to me because I have a friend that loves to read cliché stories.”

She pressed the answer button when she found her phone under her pillow. Che spoke loudly from the other line as if her audio and speaker were broken. Joanna has to distance her phone from her ear just to be able to hear her clearly.

“Lower down your voice!” Joanna shouted on her mic’s phone. “Your voice is unpleasant to hear, for chrissake, Che!”

She heard Che laughed. “Calm down, ahjumma.”

“Don’t call me ahjumma. I’m just a year older than you,” she said and drew her brows together. “Why did you call me on an early morning? I told you to avoid disturbing my sleep—”

“Is ten a.m still early for you, Jo?” Che drawled as if trying to penetrate her consciousness that was still in the realm of dreams. “Aren’t we scheduled to be the one arranging the Dewey Decimal System today?”

Joanna caught her head. “Shocks!” She then pressed the end call button and went straight to the bathroom. “I will never stay late at night ever again!”

“I don’t believe you,” Che narrowed her eyes at Joanna when they met on the streets going to the public library. “You’re a nocturnal specie.”

Joanna heaved a sigh. She took a shower for ten minutes and didn’t even fix her bed before going to work. “I’m thinking of giving up my career.”

Che snorted. “Career?” she laughed. “Do you consider staying up late a career?”

She shot her a glare. “What do you think I’m doing? Wasting my time?”

“Isn’t it?” she asked, suppressing a laugh. “You’re a good writer, Joanna. And I am your fan. But—”

“Don’t call yourself a fan if you haven’t read any of my stories,” she cut off with a wave of her hand. “Such a poser.”

“I didn’t say I’m your reader,” she said matter-of-factly. “That’s why I refer to myself as your fan because I’m impressed with the idea that you’re a writer at night and a bookkeeper at day.”

Joanna narrowed her eyes at her friend. “I can’t believe you. I thought you’re my friend.”

“I am. That’s why I’m brutally honest with you,” she said, nudging her in the waist. “And, how will I read your stories if you’re deleting it when it’s about to end?”

Joanna remembered the story that she deleted a few days ago. “I don’t want a story that has stressful characters,” she said frowning. “And, I am the writer. I can do whatever I want with my stories.”

Che stopped to look at her with furrowed brows. “That’s the problem with you, Joanna. Every time you stumbled with a difficult chapter, you’ll give up easily and delete everything. How will you reach your dream to be a published author if you’ll keep on making your bad habit in writing?”

Published Author? The label lingered in Joanna’s mind. “Did I say that my dream is to be a published author? As far as I can remember, I just write because I wanted to… to annoy the demanding readers.” She laughed. “I just wanted them to get mad because the story that they’ve been following for months was suddenly deleted on the website.”

“How could you be so cruel to your readers?” Che crossed arms in her chest. “I’m not surprised if you’re generating bashers than readers.”

She blew her breath. “I’m just kidding…” she said. “It was never my intention to annoy them, but I can’t help it, whenever I’m reaching the last chapters, I always get stuck and doesn’t know what to write next anymore.”

“There must be a lot of persona lurking inside your head,” Che said with a shake of her head. “By the way, what happen to your previous manuscript? What it’s title again? S-Sorrow—”

“Sorrowful Kiss,” she finished. “I deleted it too. But I’m planning to write a new one.”

“What?!” Che blurted out. “You deleted the whole published chapters on online reading app?”

Joanna scowled at her friend. “I have a writer’s block—”

“That’s bullshit!” she said and shook her shoulders. “My Aunt is following your story. How could you just delete it without posting any notice? And, didn’t you see the reads per chapter? It reached thousands of views! It means that a lot of people are hooked on your story!”

“I have deleted it,” she repeated with finality in her voice. “Readers don’t know that I am the writer, so there’s no problem. And, besides, one of the characters started to act strangely. It was as if he’s speaking on his own. It’s kinda creepy.”

“You’re the one who’s creepy,” Che countered. “You’re leaving your readers hanging on the cliff.”

Joanna ignored her and continued walking but suddenly stopped when she saw Philip stepped outside the GYM in front of their library. “Wait for a second…”

Che rolled her eyes heavenwards. “If you’ll just stare at him, we’ll be late.”

“How can he manage to be so gorgeous every day?” Joanna asked while following Philip with her gaze. “I should write a romance story for him.”

“You should. Maybe Philip is the only solution in your ‘cliff-hanging’ syndrome,” Che said and pushed her to cross the street. “Go on, talk to him.”

“Isn’t he snobbish?” Joanna asked hesitantly. “With his furrowed brows and perfect posture, it was as if he’s aware that he’s good-looking.”

“He’s not blind, and they have a lot of large mirror inside their gym.”

“Right. Unlike in our Library that’s just full of foxing pages,” she said and continued staring at him. “He looks hot and yummy too.”

When the man faced their direction, Joanna caught her breath. But she didn’t waste any time of her once in a lifetime opportunity. She raised her hand and waved at Philip.

“Fearless bitch,” Che commented on her move.

But to Joanna’s dismay, Philip ignored her and went back inside the GYM as if she didn’t exist.

“Look at how he ignored me,” she blurted out. “Gosh, is he reading romance fiction to act like an arrogant hero?”

“Stop comparing him to fictional characters. He’s just not interested in you,” Che said and dragged her inside the library.

***