Chapter 3

“Ah, fuck,” Cynthia grumbled in sudden realization. “I’ll bet this is one of those ‘Alternate Universe’ things that she does to milk a few more stories out of us without having to follow the plots and constructs already set up in the main series.” She looked at Katie. “You know, we might not even be in this story at all.”

“So what if we aren’t in this one? Story Freya is the main character anyway. We’re just supporting players in her world.”

“Fuck that and fuck both Freyas,” Cynthia growled. “You’ve read the comments on her stupid stories. Readers overwhelmingly prefer us! They love us! They love me!”

Katie frowned. “That’s just because all we ever do is argue or have sex.”

“Sometimes even at the same time,” Cynthia interjected.

“Yeah. That’s a real treat.” Katie shrugged. “But sex and anger is what we are, I guess. It’s what sells.”

“Sells? Yeah!” Cynthia scoffed. “That moron is writing all of these stories and not even making a damn penny.”

“She likes to write. What’s so wrong with that? Now, can’t we just see where this goes?” Katie begged. “Maybe it’ll be super sexy like the last Valentine’s Day Contest story she wrote.”

“That one was definitely a super sexy story, but it was a total loser of a story. She hasn’t come close to winning a contest yet. She doesn’t use nearly enough adjectives. And how about throwing in some metaphors and similes and shit like that from seventh grade English class? She writes like she fucking failed English 101!”

“Her stories are sweet.”

“Ha!” Cynthia barked. “You just said that sex and anger is what sells. Not sweet.”

“Well, this one still might be very sexy,” Katie pointed out. “But we’ll never know if you don’t shut up.”

“I doubt it’ll be very sexy,” Cynthia said, but begrudgingly decided to wait and see where Story Freya went with this one.

Alex took Rio out before the blizzard really rolled in, piled some logs into the fireplace, and very quickly, they were back curled up on the couch again, this time with a cozy fire and two mugs of hot chocolate that Freya had made for them.

“This is nice,” she said, snuggling closer to Alex.

“Yeah,” Alex answered, but he was distracted by the warmth of her body against him. The clean smell of her hair. The feel of her breast pressing on his bare arm, their skin separated only by the thin flannel material of her nightshirt. He sighed watching her sip hot chocolate and gaze contentedly at the flickering flames while his previously growing erection began its descent into flaccidity. His hopes of some real life romance to replace the manufactured romance in the movie seemingly going up in smoke like the logs in the fire.