takingthelight | in screaming color

in screaming color

It's been a work in progress.

Not the book, actually. Jamie finished that a few months ago. But back home in New York, things had happened quickly. He'd been aggressive in sending out his manuscript and he'd had a little help from an old professor, nudging his book toward the right eyes, and after Light Out of Darkness came out, it all seemed easy.

Well, not easy, maybe. There was still work involved, but the reception of his first book was incredible, and he'd be lying if he said it hadn't opened doors for him. Lots of doors. After that, it never felt like a matter of whether or not he'd get published again. He never worried it was a one-off. It was just a question of writing a good enough follow-up and editing it to the point of being ready to publish.

He's never taken his luck for granted. Hard work got him to that point, hard work and talent and faith in his abilities and his voice. He worked for it. But it was luck, too, and he knows it, and the last year has been a vivid reminder of that. Starting from scratch, having nothing to recommend him but his words, it was... okay, a little scary, but exhilarating, too. When his agent starts shopping the new manuscript around, he knows someone will pick it up eventually, but the chance to prove himself all over again is a welcome one. He loved what he had in New York, but these last few years have made him a better writer. His first efforts in Darrow will be better than Light ever was.

It's been a good afternoon already when he gets the call. He's made good headway on his latest today, really feels like he's getting somewhere. Hearing from his agent is just icing. "Shit, no kidding? Yeah, of course. Of course, I'll be — yeah, tomorrow's great. Alright, tomorrow then. Okay. Yeah, no, thank you. Okay, bye."

He's been sitting at a café today, if only because people actually seem less inclined to talk to him that way than if he sets up shop in the park. He slides his laptop into his bag, and then, too impatient for much else, he gathers the rest of his materials in his arms and heads outside, phone on top of it all. He'll have to call Cathy and tell her. It's all been in the works for a little while, sure, but things were still up in the air. It'll be great to let her know it's all down, it's settled, it's happening.

Reaching for his phone, though, he hesitates.

It's stupid. Of course she'll be happy for him. Even with everything that's happened between them, he is who he has always been, and she knows that. She knows what that means. And things have been better. She'll be happy.

Any debate over whether to call or wait is forgotten, though, in the next moment, when he realizes what his phone is resting on.

"Hey," he says, surprised, and slips the phone into his pocket so he can thumb through the worn copy of Light Out of Darkness. "How'd you get here?" It seems like such a long time since this came out. Even skimming, he catches sight of a couple turns of phrase that seemed like good ideas then and make him cringe now. Still, it's special, his first. Nothing's going to change that.

He just doesn't understand why it's here.

[ Item post. Find Jamie stopped right in the middle of the fucking sidewalk like an asshole. To be linked in June, set to mid-May. Open. ]

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"Neither did I," Cathy says, making sure her own smile doesn't wane. She won't admit that she's been grateful for its absence, and she doesn't want to seem like she resents its presence now. The book means a lot to Jamie, the same way any big role in a show would to her. She knows that, she understands it, and she doesn't want to begrudge him for it. It's hard not to see Light out of Darkness and its success as the source, or at least a contributor, to a lot of their problems, though. It's even harder not to wonder what's going to happen now that it's here. "It just showed up?"

"Just showed up," Jamie says, nodding. He thumbs through the pages again, giving an incredulous huff of a laugh. "I mean, you see it, that's — it's definitely real." He hasn't read it since it was published, or even well before, aside from readings he gave in those early days. It's too easy, doing so, to find things he wishes he'd done better. It doesn't matter now, though. The book served its purpose and he's still proud of it. Now there are other stories to tell.

"Oh, hey, I got the call. That's why I was gonna call you. They're gonna publish. It's all coming together."

For a moment, Cathy doesn't know what to say. She knows what she should say, words coming to her like lines from a script, but in that moment, they're all at odds with the feeling of dread in her gut, the dizzy, sick sensation that's left her reeling. When it comes to this, too, what she should be is happy, thrilled, even. This is what he's been working towards, and she knows, in a distant sort of way, that it must have been hard, going from being someone in New York to being no one here, having to start from scratch. She didn't really have a career to start over with. Knowing that difference, and how much this means to him, she should be excited. He's gotten two unbelievable strokes of luck at once. It should be a good thing.

Instead, all she can think is that this really is the beginning of the end.

The moment passes. Her smile widens, a surprised, incredulous laugh accompanying it. "Holy shit, are you serious?" she asks, and steps in close to wrap her arms around him, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Baby, that's incredible. And about time, too." It always was going to be a matter of time. Now hers is going to start running out.

It is, Jamie thinks distantly, a better reception than he expected, though in retrospect, he doesn't know what he thought she'd do. She was never going to be anything but outwardly happy for him. Maybe it was just that he expected more venom under it.

Well, there's time.

Books tucked awkwardly under his arm, he slings the other around, tugging her into a better kiss. "You're telling me," he says, grinning. "It's gonna be great. I have to go later, finalize all the details, but there's an advance coming our way. We've gotta go celebrate."

"An advance, huh? I do like the sound of that," Cathy says, one thing that is, in spite of everything else, entirely true. For all that she had to gain in showing up here, no longer in the shadow of Jamie and his famous fucking book, even she has to admit that it's been a strange adjustment, going from the way things were in New York to the way they've been here, financially speaking. What work she's had has helped, but an advance will probably be much better, and worthy of a celebration in its own right.

Besides, latching on to that, at least in responding, prevents her from thinking that of course he has to go. That's the way this always is. There's always somewhere else he has to be, someone else he has to be there with, all of it more important than her.

"What do you have in mind?"

That's something, isn't it? But then that's always Cathy's way, Jamie's found, to keep smiling and pushing on until she's shouting at him instead.

But no, no, things have been better. They can stay that way maybe. And improving their financial situation can only be a good thing.

"Anywhere you want," he says, grinning, stepping back to finish stuffing his books into his bag. "Your call. What've you been wanting to try?"

"Oh, God, I don't know," Cathy says, shrugging helplessly for a moment, then smiles, almost teasing. "I guess it depends if it's a right now celebration or a once the advance comes in celebration. There's that place a few blocks down from the apartment — that's always looked nice." She thinks it would be nice, anyway, to do something that isn't just takeout, to have a night out, just the two of them. Chances are, there won't be much of an opportunity for that before long, so she ought to enjoy it while she can. "But if we want something for now, I'm sure we could find somewhere."

"Hey, both is always an option," Jamie says. "I'll tell you what, why don't we make reservations for next week? And then tonight we can go... I don't know, how's Italian sound?" There are a couple of smaller places, quiet, where they can have a nice meal without it being extravagant, and it's hard not to just go for it and see if the nicer place has a table anyway. It won't be long before the money's in the bank, after all. But they don't have the old cushion to fall back on, and he doesn't want to stand in the street and fumble with his phone to make sure they can afford something. It takes all the fun out of it.

"Sounds perfect," Cathy says, the accompanying smile a genuine one. It's difficult, it is, to keep all her worries buried when they could so easily come to the surface, everything she's been afraid would happen since they both got here seeming to be set in motion. She doesn't want to celebrate his manuscript being published, his first book showing up here; she's done plenty of celebrating his book and him and his brilliance and his success. A night out, though, just the two of them — the promise of another when his advance comes through — is the best thing she could hope for right now. Chances are, that'll be hard to come by before long. "On both counts."

"Perfect," Jamie echoes, grinning as he leans over to kiss her. "I mean, it's still a little early for dinner, but... I was gonna take this shit home anyway. And then we can figure out where we're headed?" The giddiness is building again, along with a short of apologetic sheepishness. Maybe he just built it up in his head; maybe he's losing it. She's happy, of course she is. It's going to be fine. He gets to be excited about this. All he's wanted was to write, and being a success at home is no guarantee he'll make it in Darrow, but he just can't wrap his head around doing anything else.

"Alright, yeah," Cathy says, nodding. "Sounds like a plan. That'll give me time to change, anyway." Maybe they won't be going out somewhere too fancy yet, though the promise of that is somewhat bolstering in itself, for the moment, just drowning out the part of her that wants to think that it probably won't really happen. Still, wherever they settle on going, she'd like the chance to wear something a little nicer, to get herself cleaned up a bit. This seems like the sort of thing she ought to try to make the most of, to hold onto while she can. Once he gets published, chances are, this won't be happening again for a long time.

"Really? You look gorgeous," Jamie says, reaching out to pluck at the fabric at her waist, teasing. She does, though, she really does. If she wants to change, though, that's up to her. Doesn't mean she isn't beautiful now, isn't always beautiful. It's a fact that can be easy to forget or overlook, truth be told, when their relationship can be so fucking fragile. But there's a reason she first caught his eye, and a million reasons why she kept a hold on him, even if all of that seems so long ago. "Alright. Let's go."

"Yeah, you would say that," Cathy says, laughing, though her accompanying smile is a genuine one. Even if he's just saying it to say it, even if he'd think so no matter what she was wearing or how put-together she was, that doesn't mean she enjoys hearing it any less, especially at a time like this. If that stays the case, maybe he'll keep looking at her and not anyone else. Maybe, just maybe, they can get through this. God, she has to hope. She's lost him once; she doesn't want to lose him again. "I at least want to brush my hair, freshen up a little."

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