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“Gnnngrrghh!”
The undignified sound hisses through molars grinding together in frustration; they crave to pulverize a dark chocolate bar with peanuts. After I meet my damn deadline, Mello chides himself.
“You doin’ alright there?” Matt lifts his goggles, peeks over at Mello on the other side of their room. His heart twists with sympathy as he sees the disheveled writer slumped over his work. “You… need any help with that?”
Mello sighs heavily, defeat threatening to overwhelm him. “No. It’s hopeless. I’m a failure,” he whines, face planted into his haphazard stack of papers.
Matt hums. “You need a break. C’mon,” he insists, practically dragging his partner away from the desk. “Change of scenery. Then you can tell me where you’re blocked.”
~*~
“Yes, okay, help me,” Mello pouts, dumping hundreds of pages in Matt’s lap the following day.
Matt stares up at him, eyebrow cocked, trying not to laugh.
“Please?”
He’s so cute. How can I say no? “Course. I’m on it.”
~*~
Mello’s so goddamn lucky to have Matt. Not only because he stopped last week’s writing induced meltdown in its tracks, but also because he read Mello’s entire manuscript. It’s due in another week to his editor (which he’s desperately trying to not think about), so he’s grateful for the feedback.
Well.. not all of the feedback. Because some of it is just downright ridiculous.
Like the parts where Matt claims there’s “too much detail.” That’s asinine. It’s a murder mystery, for crying out loud! The details are the most important part!
“Okay, okay, take this section,” Matt explains, flipping determinedly to a specific page. (He’s annotated the fucking thing. Clearly, this was a mistake.) “Your final chapter; it’s great. The reveal is, like, really good.”
Mello’s hackles raise. “But?”
“But… the thumb turn lock explanation,” he winces from behind the yellow sheen of the goggles.
“Matt, you’re gonna have to say more than that.”
“It’s just, so long-winded, babe.”
“It’s thorough,” Mello spits back.
“There is such a thing as too thorough.”
“It’s the end of the book, Matt! The loose ends need to be tied up!” He feels himself becoming a bit shrill.
“This is more than tying ends, Mello; it’s… excessive.” Matt pinches the bridge of his nose, like he’s getting a headache. “Look, nobody’s gonna wanna read four whole pages about that. Trim it down, or it'll be unpublishable.”
(With a heroic effort and much grumbling about it, Mello cuts it down to a page and a half. It’s a big deal.)
“Okay. What else?” He doesn’t know why he’s asking. This is extremely un-fun, getting feedback. Matt, with his rational thinking and his gorgeous face and his huge brain. Mello resolves to never ask for advice on his writing ever again.
“The names—they’re hilarious. Blues-harp Babysplit? I almost fucking pissed myself reading that.”
“I didn’t wanna use their real names,” Mello shrugs, feigning nonchalance (but he’s betrayed by a curl at the corner of his mouth).
“Last point, though,” Matt continues, “for the climax of the story. The scene of the fourth murder attempt.” He looks up at Mello, as if waiting for permission.
“…Spit it out, then,” Mello sighs. This is getting tiresome.
”It's cute, but it doesn't seem very realistic. Nobody's going to believe this actually happened this way. What're the odds that—”
"No, no, I did the math, it's statistically feasible!”
“Yes, the names are, and I'll even give you the coincidence of the room numbers and locations... but also that they were destined to die that same day? Mathematically impossible."
"…"
“You know I’m right, Mello,” Matt smirks. He flips back a few pages to check something else. “Also, what happened to the last two BB's?"
“What do you mean, what happened to them?”
“Well, it’s a loose end. With no follow up, is the reader supposed to infer they died in the hotel, forgotten by the detectives?”
Shit.
“Uh…” He’s right. Of course he’s right.
Oh well. Good thing nobody’s as smart as Matt. No one’s gonna notice that, right?
“I’m tiiired,” Mello groans, exhaustion overtaking him. “Let’s do something else.”
“Mario Kart?” Matt suggests, almost too quickly.
“…”
“I’ll let you be Yoshi.”
“Fine.”