Chapter Text
“We are joined here today by America’s possibly most popular author. His latest book, “House of Tragedies,” took the whole nation by storm, breaking many records and gaining him a big and dedicated fanbase! Mr. Poe, we are very excited to have you here at A.T tv today.”
Poe hasn’t yet decided if it were anxiety or cockiness which were more prominent within him right now. For his first ever “public appearance,” it was quite the mundane setting; there he was, sitting on an orange couch in a studio set, surrounded by bleak and blinding fluorescent lights aimed at his face. His stylist insisted on styling his long bangs back out of his eyes to reveal his forehead. He found some comfort in the fact that it still had some volume to it and wasn’t gelled back flat to his scalp. It’s the little things, really; the little mercies.
Edgar Allan Poe felt as naked as the day he was born, constantly both fighting the itch to cower from the cameras and staff and resisting the urge to puff out his chest in arrogance, simultaneously.
He was struck with a rare wave of narcissism; sitting with his back straight, leaning on the sofa lazily, Poe offered a smile to the interviewer. “It’s a pleasure to be here,” he replied to her, glancing behind her head at the camera pointing at him. Perhaps the fame was getting to him a little, or maybe it was just because it’s his first time in a set like this. Whatever the case, Poe felt confident knowing his work got the recognition it had.
He turned his gaze at the woman, surprised to feel a shiver creeping up his spine upon noticing her look straight at him, into his usually covered eyes. It felt uncomfortable, and yet Poe used the feeling to force himself into sharing the eye contact, hoping maybe he could feel this confidence for the interview’s entire duration. It did dim a little for a second; he was never that good with eye contact.
The woman offered a warm business smile, trying to make the setting more comfortable and friendly, “so how are you doing? If I'm not mistaken this is your first time showing your face.”
Poe let out a sigh internally, wondering how some of his many new-found fans will react to finally seeing him. While he wasn’t active in social media and had zero fan-interactions, Poe has read the things people wrote about him quite regularly. He sure hoped the general reaction would be positive; he doesn't know what he’ll do if his fans started calling him ugly.
But instead of this internal worry what came out was a simple: “yes, this is the first time I am showing my face, haha. I do hope this does not change anyone’s opinion on my works; I’ve wanted to keep that as pure as possible.”
It will definitely change the opinions on his books, he was no fool.
Poe felt himself slowly regretting ever agreeing to do this. He should’ve just stuck with short radio appearances every few years.
The woman politely laughed, “you’re a very handsome man, I'm sure you have nothing to worry about.” Poe’s lips melted into a satisfied smirk. Her compliment was well appreciated. He mumbled something of a thanks to her, looking up at her from below his eyes, bringing a hand to rub his neck.
This probably photographed well on camera, he thought.
Maybe the interview won’t be that bad.
The woman straightened her back, getting more comfortable in her seat. She switched out her cards, bringing a different one to the front, reading out the plan for the interview. She opened her mouth to start out the question: “So I’m sure you know about the great success your new book brought; what are your thoughts on that? Were you surprised or did you expect it to gather the attention it had?”
Poe paused before answering, thinking about it. In truth, Poe wasn’t by any means a humble man. He knew that the book was good, that the story was rich and interesting. He spent years on perfecting it after all, so he had not been that surprised when Luisa called him to talk about its success. He was also expecting interviews like this to come because of this small blow up, but that plan is on hold until this one is over. He’d only do it if the questioning goes well enough.
And yet. Actually realizing how well-received and loved it was felt simply unreal.
“I worked on the book for years, trying to perfect it; I wanted people to see the effort and thought I put into it. When I saw how successful it got… It felt absolutely unreal. I knew there would be some who would see it like I have, but for so many people to enjoy it like I’ve wished? I can’t say I ever foresaw this level of appreciation from the public. I’m thankful, really. To everyone who’s read and enjoyed it.”
The camera moved a bit closer to him, zooming just a little more on his face. Poe could feel the streak of cockiness he had in the beginning of the interview flicker like a candle light being blown at, going soft and weak whenever he remembers the number of people that are going to watch this. He tried to calm his social anxiety with thoughts about Karl, imagining the small raccoon laying on his stomach, sleeping peacefully on his couch, under the sun. The entire world will have access to this..
The interviewer hummed, smiling softly at him. Somewhere out of frame another staff member turned the brightness of a ring of light up a notch, facing the lamp towards her. With her face lit up by the additional studio lighting, she turned her body a little to the side so the camera as well as himself could see her better.
“That’s amazing to hear, you should be very proud. As someone who’s read “House of Tragedies”, I can say the success and attention are very well deserved; it was written wonderfully, and the plot is truly so interesting, I was completely enamored! I’m sure I’m not the only one curious about how it was made! Would you tell us a bit about how you came up with the idea for this book?”
Well. It was in an effort to beat someone.
If he even read it at all.
Does he still remember me, Poe wondered. The Japanese detective he met that day six years ago never truly left his mind. Since that defeat, Poe tried thinking of something-anything that the man would not be able to figure out. The story was just an attempt at that. A clever plot with an unexpected twist; and Poe was confident even he would have a hard time solving the mystery. It was one of his proudest works.
Poe switched his legs twice, opening his mouth to reply with the answer he quickly forged in his head. Pulling the right leg over the left and then doing the opposite, he leaned forward with his body, slouching just a little, as if in an effort to keep himself more hidden. “I’ve worked on it for six years,” he told her, bringing his hands together and intertwining his fingers.
“I’ve always been interested in mysteries. As a teen I would always pick out the stories with a twist and try to figure out the details before it happens; those books remained my favorites, and are the ones I choose to enjoy in my free time even now. As I grew older, I found myself drawn to the dark pieces of literature. It felt more lively- incredibly exhilarating, when the books had a sense of the unknown, and adding the element of terror always made my heart race. I thought, ‘If a book can get me to think, instead of blindly reading it as the story goes on, then it’s a good book.’”
Talking to the lady became more natural as he continued, but he still felt a bit of anxiety at the thought of the interview being watched by so many people. While he wasn’t overcome with the cockiness he felt at the beginning, Poe felt very confident and at ease talking about his writing. It was always the easiest subject for him to talk about.
He separated his hands from one another, no longer needing the soothing feeling to try and keep himself calm, not thinking about the future watchers from home. Offering a small, content smile, Poe relaxed his shoulders, continuing with his answer.
“I wanted my readers to feel like they aren’t entirely separate from the events of the book; to do that I decided to give them a mystery-complete with clues and suspects, to deduce and solve for their own, just like I’ve always enjoyed doing.” The interviewer didn’t spare a glance at the note cards she held, smiling genuinely at Poe, leaning forward. “Would you say “House of Tragedies” is your way of thanking and patting your past self on the back?”
Poe shook his head at the question, amused, “not at all,” he laughed a little. It felt a bit silly thinking of it that way, knowing the real reason behind how it came to be.
“While it is basically all the parts I’ve always found fascinating and enjoyable about a book, when I wrote it I didn’t have myself in regard at all. I’ve never thought to consider “House of Tragedies” as an ode to young Edgar because in my mind it was never about me.”
“So there’s someone else who was an inspiration to this book?” she joked, and Poe laughed, opening his mouth to deny her.
Will Ranpo ever find out he’s the reason the book came to be? Poe has not even a hint of doubt he’ll deduce it if he ever comes across it.
“Yeah, I wrote it hoping it’ll be too complicated for him to solve.”
Oh.
Well, shit.
He had not meant to say that.
Logically, Poe knew he could very easily explain this. He could say something along the lines of ‘my friend is a big fan of these stories’, you know-make something up. But Poe was never one to handle sudden panic very well. So much for not feeling the growing anxiety. The writer could feel himself panicking when he slowly realized what he said, watching the interviewer as she raised her eyebrows in surprise.
“Oh? Who’s “him”?” she asked.
In his imagination, a cloud of black smoke sweeps into the room, slowly solidifying in his hands, materializing into the shape of a gun, and he leaves no witnesses.
In reality he just let out an unassuming hum.
Poe changed his position, pushing his hands down on the couch as he brought himself further back into it, sitting up. He hoped the internal panic he was currently facing was unknown to everyone else. The writer made sure to avoid looking into the woman’s eyes when he answered.
What does he even call Ranpo? They aren’t friends. They’ve met only once-the day he got defeated by the detective. If anything the shorter is-
“My rival.”
“Your rival?” Poe nodded at her. Might as well just finish what he started.
“Do you mean Mr. Lovecraft? While fans of the two of you are known to say one or the other is the best in the genre, I don’t believe they consider you rivals.” The confusion was heard in her voice as she tried coming up with an answer from the information she had available. He commended her for the quick connection, although it was false. She must’ve done her research rather well; not many people know about the topics popular in the fans’ community.
Poe shook his head again, not wanting to bring more people into the situation.
“No, I don’t mean Mr. Lovecraft; I myself find his works fascinating. My rival is not a writer, he’s a detective. I wrote this story for him, after he solved what I thought was an unsolvable mystery that I managed to write. It took him less than a minute; after the introduction of the characters he was done.” Poe sighed, remembering that day six years ago when the man merely stood there in silence, pointing to the culprit after he got introduced. “He did it,” he told him before leaving Poe on the floor, walking away with a smile, sucking on a red lollipop. As if he had no care for the state he left the writer in. From that day Poe couldn’t stop thinking about him. Couldn’t stop thinking about how to best him.
Just once, and it’ll be more than enough.
The woman hummed, clearly still having questions about the new information she got. Poe could read on her face that she found it a bit bizarre. Is spending more than half a decade writing a book for a supposed rival strange? Poe didn’t think so. The detective was just a great inspiration, is all.
“Interesting! Is it anyone we would know? I don’t think it’s mentioned in the book that it was written for anyone.” Poe imagined the ground opening up a small hole and sucking him down for all eternity. He smiled a little awkwardly, “no I did not mention him in my book, or in past interviews for that matter. I want to keep his identity hidden if possible,” he laughed.
She nodded her head, baring an understanding face. “You seem to care for him a lot, are you very close?”
No. He actually might not even remember Poe’s name. He raised a hand up to his hair, playing with the locks for a bit. “Close enough,” he decided to tell her. It seemed to be the most neutral answer. A good phrase to settle on, he thought.
Anything else would’ve probably sounded weird.
“What does he think about it? Did he manage to deduce it correctly? The question of who did it is one of the book’s most popular debates, after all.”
She’s asking an awful lot about him. Louisa would probably have a heart attack. All the future interviews will definitely ask about this.
Poe sighed internally.
He brought his hands back together, rubbing over his knuckles with his thumbs, “I don’t know if he’s read it, let alone solved it. I haven’t had a chance to meet with him since it came out.” Or at all since their first time, that is.
She gave him a disappointed look, feeling sad both for him, and for her lack of answer on the matter. After returning it back to her, she switched her expression, turning to the camera and smiling. “I’m sure we’ll know the answer very soon! It is the most popular book nowadays, after all! But in the meantime, how about you tell us a little about the book itself for anyone at home who hasn't read it yet?” Poe smiled at her change in subject, turning to the camera as he began to speak. Finally.
He sure hopes the detective never sees this embarrassing interview.
And so, Poe began explaining the plot of the book; the scene, the situation, the characters- He explained everything and she nodded along, offering follow-up questions here and there.
Minutes went by easily. He told of his thoughts behind certain scenes and explained a few nuances in the text.
With a content expression, Poe finished, “or to summarize-The story tells of a man who finds himself, along with a few others, locked in a hotel in the middle of a snow storm, unable to leave due to the horrible weather. That evening, one of the hotel residents is killed by the hands of another one of the hotel-goers. As more of the characters are slowly killed each night by the killer, the protagonist, and with him hopefully the readers, search for clues as to who the culprit is. “House of Tragedies” is a murder mystery that I've left open to interpretation.”
The interviewer tilted her head, holding onto the key-cards as she leaned in his direction, very captivated by his words. “Is there a right answer to the question of who’s done it?” she asked Poe.
Poe’s lips stretched into a cheeky smirk, “of course. I greatly enjoy reading the fans’ discourse on the matter online, and to those who are wondering-some of you did indeed figure it out and guess correctly.” Her eyes widened a little at that, turning to the camera with the smile of a cat who just had his owner’s satisfying dinner.
“You’ve heard it here first! “House of Tragedies” is in fact solvable and some of you deduced it correctly! Internet discourse on the matter is sure to blow up as soon as the interview airs-” she said, looking at him and grinning, as if she’s shared a funny anecdote.
“-Try your best to figure it out, everyone!” she winked at the camera.
Poe laughed a little, amused yet still a little hesitant after his accidental slip-up.
The woman turned to him and Poe straightened his back, making himself appear more professional. She gathered all the cards in her hands, fixing them with light taps on her thigh to get them in line. Her lips melted into a sincere smile as she made eye contact with him.
She wasn’t lying, then. Poe could tell she was some sort of a fan of his. The knowledge made him relax a little, his own lips falling into a gentle smile in return.
“I’m afraid that’s all the time we have for today’s interview,” she said to the camera before turning her gaze back to him, holding out her hand for him to shake, smiling wider when he did. “It was truly a pleasure to interview you, Mr. Poe. I hope we’ll see you here soon again with new news about your rival’s answer! Be sure to check out the brilliantly-written “House of Tragedies” if you haven’t already. This has been Jane Louis once again here to interview America’s favorite celebrities. Edgar Allan Poe, everybody!” she pointed her hand in his direction, introducing him for the last time.
With a wave and one last smile to the camera the both of them soon stood up from their seats at the call of “cut!” from the staff.
The interview will air tomorrow morning.
Poe went home that evening and vowed to not look at the internet at least for the next two days.
God only knows how the fans will react.
Or worse, how a certain Japanese detective will.