Living Fiction - Introduction (Patreon)

“Um...sorry to bother you...”

Sticking one finger to the page to mark her place, Blake looked up and found a young girl approaching the front desk. From the expression on her face and the hesitant comment, she was worried that she was inconveniencing Blake in some way. Under ordinary circumstances she might be, but when Blake was sitting at the reception desk it was her responsibility to field questions.

“How can I help you?” she asked, going as far as to close the book to make it clear that the incoming request would have her complete attention.

“I think so...I’m looking for this book for a history report.” As she spoke, the girl handed Blake a small piece of paper that had several words and numbers scrawled across it. Turning it around and reading the title with its accompanying shelf number, Blake nodded and pointed off to her right.

“It’s going to be in that second aisle right there,” she explained, gesturing with one hand while returning the piece of paper. “The third bookcase on the left, fourth shelf from the bottom.”

Narrowing her eyes and mouthing the directions to herself, the girl eventually nodded and smiled.

“Thanks!” she said before heading the way she’d been directed.

After making sure the girl walked into the correct aisle, Blake flipped her book open, found her spot on the page, and continued reading.

Working at the campus library was an easy job. Sitting at the reception desk, she pointed students in the right direction for specific textbooks and coordinated sign-ups for the study rooms lining the walls of the building - prime meeting spots for students who needed to work on group projects.

But mostly, she read her own books and worked on her own homework while waiting for anyone to need her help. It was this freedom that had drawn her to the position to begin with. Well, that and needing a job to help with some of the costs of attending school here.

Admittedly, being paid to read was basically her dream job. If she had to help out a few fellow students every once in a while, that was a small sacrifice to make.

Reaching the end of the chapter, she glanced at the clock and - when she saw what time it was - decided not to move on. It was right after dinner on a Wednesday, which probably wasn’t a very special time for most people. In fact, Wednesday was only the fifth best day of the week (narrowly beating Monday and Tuesday) - there were still two full days until the weekend, most tests or big projects fell on Thursday or Friday, and very few social events would happen on campus.

Those reasons mattered very little to Blake though. Wednesday evening meant it was time to close her book, set it off to the side, and try to convince her heart to stop speeding up in anticipation of what was going to happen soon.

She was hesitant to call this her favorite part of the week - doing so would only make the rest of her week sound incredibly drab and boring. There were other times she highly enjoyed - like reading or spending time with a few close friends on the weekend - but it was this particular moment that she...looked forward to. It was exciting in a way that the rest of her week was not. It was exhilarating, even - which was the first time she could apply that term to real life. It wasn’t a word she used lightly either, being saved only for the books she read, and for the approaching weekly occasion.

It would last a few minutes at most, but the short amount of time did nothing to prevent her eyes from flitting towards the entrance of the library every few seconds. Students from every year were filtering in and out, unaware of her expectation as fragments of their conversations reached her ears. Progress made on a group paper, plans for the weekend, grades on a recent exam - it was a typical university library, filled with typical university students.

Except one.

Blake heard the distinct voice before the door even opened, filtering in from outside and catching her attention as easily as someone waving a hand in front of her face. She always told herself that she would play it cool - that she would keep her eyes focused on the notebook she had open in front of her - but she always failed. Turning to the left, she watched with bated breath as the next group of students walked into the library.

And the best - most exciting, most anticipated, most thrilling - part of Blake’s week finally arrived.

Her name was Yang Xiao Long and she was, unequivocally, the most beautiful girl in the entire school. There must be thousands of students enrolled at Vale University, but Yang outshone them all. With gorgeous blonde hair that fell in waves down her back, vibrant lilac eyes that sparkled in the light, a cheerful grin and even more magical smile...Yang had a magnetic aura that was unlike anyone else Blake had ever met.

Yang was the star of campus - the one sought after for every big party or event, the one whose name was scratched into far too many desks along with hearts or proclamations of love, and the one person who everyone at the school was almost guaranteed to know.

Because she was immensely popular, she was constantly surrounded by a group of friends or even larger group of gawkers. But for this one short moment in time, every Wednesday after dinner, her sole attention would be fixed upon Blake.

Breaking away from the two girls she’d come in with (who Blake recognized as two stars of the track and field team), Yang walked over to the desk. Maybe it was more appropriate to say that she sauntered, as normal walking couldn’t possibly draw so much attention. And, while she’d already been wearing a smile, that smile grew when her eyes trained upon Blake - the friendliest of expressions one could ever hope to find.

“Hey!” Yang said, managing to call out in a voice that was soft enough to keep the peace and quiet of the library intact. “If it isn’t my favorite library worker. How’re you doing?”

If this was the way Yang greeted everyone, it was easy to see why she was adored around campus.

“Hi, Yang...” As much as she wanted to stare, Blake averted her eyes from the bright smile. “I’m doing ok. How are you?”

“Fantastic!”

When Yang said the word with such confidence, Blake couldn’t help but to smile and hope that the heat in her cheeks didn’t mean a blush was already surfacing. This seemed like the point in the conversation where she should ask a follow-up question, but her mind was completely blank. All she could think about was how Yang’s eyes were watching her, almost as if they could see right through her. She sincerely hoped that wasn’t the case, because then Yang would see her scrambling to find another topic to talk about.

“Uh, so...how’s the library biz treating you?” Yang finally asked, shifting the strap of her bag on her shoulder but smiling all the same.

“Pretty much the same as usual,” Blake answered. “People coming in to study or...look for books...”

Again, the conversation stalled, and Blake’s personal discomfort rose as she imagined Yang’s did the same. But if Yang was uncomfortable, she hid it behind a smile that never wavered.

“I guess normal is good,” she said, shooting a glance towards her friends before locking onto Blake’s gaze once more. “I was wondering if there’s a room we could use?” she asked, pointing towards the other side of the library. “Hopefully that one?”

It was an open secret between the two of them that Yang always wanted to use Study Room #8 if it was available. In lieu of an official explanation for such a specific request, she’d made an offhand remark about how her lucky number was eight. That was a good enough reason for Blake. Plus, she preferred for Yang to use that room: it was the easiest to covertly steal glances into from the front desk.

In the end, Yang’s preference worked to both of their benefits. Fortunately, since Blake was the one in charge of assigning rooms to students who wanted to reserve them, she exerted a fair amount of control over which groups went where.

Essentially, she made sure Study Room #8 was always available at this time on Wednesday.

“Number eight is open,” she replied, turning the book filled with room reservations around so Yang could fill out the information the library required of them.

“Must be my lucky day.” After sending Blake a wink, Yang grabbed a pen off the desk and wrote her details in the appropriate boxes. “There you go!” she said once she put the ending flourish on her signature. “Need anything else from me?”

When Yang smiled again, it felt like she was inviting Blake to continue the conversation. It was an opportunity Blake might have taken if she could think of anything to say. Instead, she shook her head.

“That’s all we need,” she said, trying and failing to come up with anything better. “Let me know if you need help with anything else?”

“Will do.” Yang turned to leave but suddenly stopped. “Oh, dang, almost stole your pen.” Setting the pen on top of the notebook, Yang gave Blake one last smile. “Thanks for being so helpful!”

“No problem,” Blake muttered, resisting the urge to bury her face in her hands in embarrassment while Yang walked back to her friends – who’d waited near the door this entire time. Blake never quite understood why they didn’t come over to the desk too, but also didn’t mind that they decided to maintain a distance and chat amongst themselves. It made Yang and Blake’s moment feel more private, for the short amount of time it lasted.

After a quick nod from Yang, the three of them headed into the room they’d reserved for the next couple of hours. As they settled in, pulling out notebooks and textbooks from their bags, Blake began the process of dissecting the interaction that had just occurred and mentally kicking herself for the opportunities she’d missed.

Why couldn’t she think of something funny to say, or witty to ask?

Or, forget being funny or witty. There were so many innocuous questions that could extend the conversation - how are exams going? Any classes you really like or hate? Best professors? Weekend plans? Asking any of those would have been better than what she’d just done.

It was easy to hold a conversation in her mind. By this point, the two of them had shared hundreds of seamless, imaginary conversations - all of them where Blake was witty or charming or made an interesting remark or two. But when it came to the real moment, she was either too nervous or too...something...to speak like she normally did.

It usually wasn’t so difficult to find subjects to talk about. With friends, classmates, coworkers, professors...it was a simple and relatively painless task to continue a friendly conversation. But when it came to Yang, she froze up.

Maybe this happened because they had nothing in common. They went to the same school, were in the same year, had some of the same classes…

Well, maybe they had some things in common, but they were on opposite ends of the social spectrum. What common ground did they share? Would Yang be interested in discussing books? That seemed rather doubtful...especially considering that she didn’t seem like the type who would read for pleasure.

Sighing as a portion of her anticipation was replaced with regret, Blake did her best to moderate the number of times she glanced into the study room across the library. Instead of checking up on the newest arrivals, she attempted to focus on her work - not that there was much to do. As a student helper, her job was to do exactly that - help students. When no students needed help, her job was to sit there and read. And, on Wednesday evenings, to subtly send glances towards Study Room #8...while wishing she was more adept at leading a conversation.

Why did this matter so much? So she wasn’t friends with the most popular girl in the school - that really wasn’t a surprise considering how she never sought out that type of popularity for herself. Plus, she’d never liked being a blind member of ‘the crowd’ - chasing ways to earn respect and recognition from her peers.

For Yang, she made an exception. However, her fascination hadn’t begun because of Yang’s appearance (although she’d be lying if she said that wasn’t a bit of a factor). Rather, her interest was captured in their very first semester after a moment she witnessed firsthand.

It was a core class - macroeconomics. Arriving early, Blake had picked a seat in the last row like she normally did. She liked the vantage point from the back of the classroom, plus, she’d never had any issues seeing the board like other students. 

There had been a few other familiar faces around her, one being a boy from her high school that she’d only known to be...a bit weird. From the way the other students actively chose seats away from his, Blake assumed that she wasn’t the only one who could sense that vibe coming from him. It wasn’t that he was mean. He was just...weird. And so, he sat on his own in one of the middle rows, off to the far side where it would be easy for him to escape at the end of class.

For all intents and purposes, it seemed like it would be just another class filled with first-year students who would be no more than strangers at the end of the semester. But then Yang arrived.

Blake had actually turned around in search of the happy voice as it filtered through the door and had been rather stunned by the person who walked inside.

Yang already had a group of friends, of course, and she was chatting with them, motioning with her hands while they laughed at whatever joke she was telling. When it came time to pick seats, her friends wanted to sit in one corner of the class - forming their own little clique that would be unapproachable in terms of beauty - but Yang scanned the room and then smiled.

Blake could still remember exactly what Yang’s response had been - “Naw, come on. Let’s sit over here.”

Her friends had no choice but to follow as Yang plopped herself in the seat next to the boy no one else wanted to sit next to. Yang’s friends were far less sure about the choice of seating, but they wanted to sit close to Yang, so they sat down on her other side. And the boy looked over in complete surprise when Yang introduced herself.

It was at that moment when Blake realized she’d just discovered both the prettiest and kindest girl in the school. Even if Blake’s initial conclusion was hasty, Yang went on to prove its correctness over the course of the semester. She never switched seats, and it looked like she and the boy became good friends by the time the final exam rolled around.

In addition to learning about macroeconomics, Blake learned a lot about Yang through observing her interactions with others in their class. And, sometimes Yang would turn around and look towards the back of the class. Whenever she did so, she always managed to catch Blake’s eyes for a split second - and it was those few seconds that built the sense of anticipation Blake carried with her to this day.

Ever since then she’d searched for opportunities to talk to Yang, but they belonged to different social spheres, to say the least. It was only after she started this job that they could, briefly on Wednesdays, share a moment that was probably meaningless to Yang - especially meaningless because, thus far, Blake had failed to make any type of impression.

Week after week passed with nothing more than the most incremental of incremental steps. They were on a first name basis now, and Yang always referred to Blake’s position at the library in a complimentary way, but other than that...they could hardly be called friends at this point - they were stubbornly stuck at acquaintances.

Resigned to the utter lack of progress, Blake pulled over the stack of books she’d collected for herself before starting work earlier that day.  It was an assortment of novels from an assortment of genres, but she’d read them all at least once before - and some more than once.

Turning the spines towards her so the titles were readable, her eyes scanned from top to bottom before nodding to herself. Satisfied that the books were stacked in the proper order, she spun in her chair and grabbed her bag off of the floor beside her. Reaching inside, she pulled out a long case made of thin aluminum that held her favorite set of bookmarks.

When she found them at a thrift store several months ago, she’d fallen in love with the designs. Each featured a prominent color that was swirled in different shades and intricate patterns that created a nearly undetectable number hidden within. Featuring the numbers one through seven, Blake initially thought it was clever to have one bookmark for every day of the week; at the pace she read, it made sense too.

These days, she wished she had more than seven.

After picking out the bookmark with the number one on it - designed in a gorgeous gold that made her skin tingle - she grabbed the first book from her stack. Flipping through, she found the chapter she was searching for before sticking the bookmark between the pages and setting the book aside. She repeated the process with the second bookmark - this one a royal purple that had quickly become one of her favorite colors. Moving steadily through her stack of books and stack of bookmarks, she was mindful to handle each one carefully while completing the entire list.

Seven bookmarks, seven books, seven chapters.

By stringing different stories together, she was attempting to create a unique experience that went beyond the constraints of a singular novel. Sometimes, the chapters came together to form a somewhat cohesive story - other times, they didn’t. Either way, it was enjoyable to combine various moments from various chapters and live them close together rather than completing a story in full before moving on.

With the course of creation completed, she neatly re-stacked the books - that beautiful gold bookmark sticking out of the top book. She reached out for it, her expectation rising, but paused when an abrupt motion caught her eye.

Yang had just shot out of her seat and was walking backward towards the door. Her friends were talking, but it looked like they were teasing her based on their smiles. Yang said something and they burst into laughter, the sound filtering through the door when Yang opened it and stepped into the main portion of the library.

Immediately dropping her hand, Blake watched as Yang walked towards her. Her heart was speeding up again - the unintended consequence of an unexpected visit after their initial moment had passed.

“Hey,” Yang said in a quiet voice - the perfect voice to use in a library, which was only one of the many traits Blake appreciated about Yang.

“Hi.”

The answer felt too short, especially when Yang rested one hand on top of the desk and smiled. Clearing her throat, Blake added, “Can I help you with something?”

“Oh, uh, yeah. My friend needs a red pen for this assignment she’s working on but forgot to bring one. I was wondering if you had one she could borrow?”

The answer was mildly disappointing, but what had Blake expected? It was her job to help with these types of requests.

“There should be one around here somewhere.” Scooting backward, she pulled open several drawers in search of a red pen. There was normally an assortment of pens and other supplies left behind or abandoned by students and other workers. “Ah, here’s one.”

Pulling the pen from a drawer, Blake tried it out on a piece of paper before handing it to Yang, who took it with a smile.

“Thanks! You’re a lifesaver.”

Under Yang’s unwavering smile, Blake felt like this was another moment when she should say something to keep the conversation going, but before she could say anything Yang spoke again.

“Uh, so do you like working here?” she asked, motioning towards the bookshelves surrounding them.

“It’s not bad. It’s quiet and I can work on homework or read when it’s not busy.”

“Or when people aren’t bugging you, huh?” Yang chuckled, but Blake shook her head at the implication.

“I don’t mind.”

The reply seemed to put Yang more at ease, as her eyes drifted around Blake’s workspace before landing upon the stack of books.

“You’re going to read all of these?”

“You could say that.”

Blake’s nerves exploded when Yang took further interest in the books. Part of her wanted to reach out and pull them closer for protection, but another part said that doing so would only make this interaction more uncomfortable than it already was.

Tilting her head, Yang leaned closer to read the title running across the top book.

“Oh hey! I’ve totally heard of this one!”

When Yang suddenly reached towards it, Blake sprang into motion.

“Wait -!” was all she got out, practically diving forward in an attempt to knock Yang’s hand away. She was a second too late, and both of their hands hit the title of the book at the same time.

All of a sudden, the bookshelves and walls of the library were gone. The fluorescent lights, the tables and chairs, the study rooms, the reception desk - all gone.

But Yang was still here.

“Oh god…” Blake said, internally panicking while Yang looked around in astonishment.

“Uh...where are we?” she asked, turning to Blake for an answer. Unfortunately, Blake had one - but it was not at all believable.

“We’re in the book.”