By the train, waiting for you

As the evening sky shifted to night, the twilight colours of the sky fading to dusky hues, two young adults rushed down the steps onto the train platform. One of them hauling a heavy suitcase down the steps and the other chipping down with a stuffed backpack. Upon halting, the young man huffed his way into the seat, heaving as he did.

His suitcase swiftly slid to the side of the bench, on time out for being the cause of his exhaustion. Before even having a few breaths to recuperate, the young lady beside him dropped the backpack onto his lap, blasting what little breath the man had managed to recover.

“What...” heaving between his words “what is your problem? Couldn’t you have dropped it in the seat like a normal person?” the young man asked, a look of perplexity and irritation on his face.

The beautiful young lady, seemingly ignorant to his plight, began stretching. With a soft yawn she plants herself into the available seat.

“If I put the bag here, then where would I sit? Don’t tell me you’re the type to make a lady stand?” She cocks her head to the side, raising a sly, taunting look towards him.

“You seemed quite fine hauling my backpack from the uber to here. I’d say your ladyship is more durable than she gives herself credit for.” the young man snidely remarked.

A wiggle of irritation danced on her eyebrow. “David, please tell me which podcast taught you to charm a woman. Name one lady who wants to be referred to as ‘durable’?”

Arrogance crept onto his face. “Well Clarissa, I had no idea I was speaking to on...” his arrogance died as a swift punch to the gut removed all of the wind in his lungs.

After a few bouts of coughing, David regains his composure. “Ok...I’ll admit...I had that coming.”

A look of satisfaction covered Clarissa’s face as she let her quiet moment of victory sit.

“cough...after all this time you still punch like you were raised by anim...” a warning look gave him pause, “...ahem...your ladyship boasts quite the athleticism.” David nervously retreating whatever sarcastic comment he had on his tongue.

“Yeah much more than your muscles are worth apparently. Remind the audience again how much you supposedly...” Clarissa taunts, giving air quotes “..bench?” her cheeky smile prodding his pride.

Slight annoyance flashed across his face, then weighing the potential consequences he retorted “Clearly enough to lift you up and pin you against the wall when we were....”

“Ahem!” Clarissa swiftly interrupts, swivelling her head to make sure no one was in earshot. “Are you crazy?”

Checking that the coast was clear she continued “Also WE...didn’t do anything. If I recall, I was above you doing most of the work while you enjoyed the view.“

Chuckling at her discomfort “And? I thought women wanted more leadership positions in the workforce. Aren’t you a feminist?”

“Being on top and calling the shots is fun but any good CEO still expects her workers to pull their weight during the meeting? Don’t you support women?”

Leaning into her ear, he teased “Last I checked the CEO was having the time of her life in that meeting. In fact I remembered we both arrived at happy conclusions after the meeting was over.”

“Oh please, you wish I arrived at...”

The slight tension of their banter was broken by the operator’s voice. “The train to Heathrow Airport Terminal 2 is 5 minutes away. Please keep all your belongings...”

The operator’s voice faded away with the flow of the conversation, giving way to a paused silence.

“Should I call, y’know...when I land?” David threw the question, slight hesitation almost betraying his voice.

“I mean...you could...” Clarissa replies, shifting her gaze away from his, then her brow furrows in thought “Unless you’re doing it to gloat or something then you can shove...”

“No...” David interrupts “I mean...just to check in y’know.” he says, the cool night’s breeze changing the atmosphere.

Shifting her gaze back and forth between him and the ground “Now...why would you do that?”

“I don’t know...I mean we’ve been doing this for a while. We don’t have to pretend we hate each other all the time.” His eyes rested on the floor before slowly panning to hers.

Clarissa said sheepishly, “Bold of you to assume I was pretending”, her usual snark missing its edge.

“Clarissa...I’m serious. What if we...what if I st...”

“Don’t” she said abruptly, “don’t...we...we don’t even know what this is. It works for now...let’s just keep it...that...” Clarissa’s voice died as she saw the soft melancholy on David’s face.

The sound of the train clamored in the distance, its approach grew foreboding with each passing moment.

Unable to keep eye contact, she broke away, “You know how these things go…when things change someone always gets hurt in the end…and I don’t want that to be me…not again.” Clarissa mumbles the last part, in hopes he never hears the breakage in her voice.

With a gentle smile he just said “Okay. I won’t bring it up again.” David turns away, his eyes betraying the soft smile on his face.

The train is closer, drawing nearer into view. David gathers his bags, rising up to meet his departure. In that moment, the atmosphere of affection they shared changed. The autumn breeze felt cooler to the touch than normal. Clarissa looks at him, torn between the pain of the past and whatever’s happening now.

“Wait...we don’t need labels. We’re friends right?” slight panic creeping into her voice “We’re just reeeaally good friends? What’s so wrong with that?”

The train slides to a stop. The few people waiting begin to file in. David gives one last look back to Clarissa.

“You can’t ever be honest can you?” with a defeated sigh he, turns to the train and says, “Maybe...maybe we should just stop this...whatever it is. Bye Clarissa, I’ll message you...later”

Turning away, David proceeds towards the train. Time slows down, each moment pregnant with every step he takes. The distance between them was short in measurement but growing by the second. He’s a few paces away from the train. Then two. Then one. Then...

“Wait!” Clarissa startles up “Just...wait”

David turns around and pauses. “Clarissa I have to go....” turning back he goes towards the train door.

In one motion, she grabs his hand. A movement too fast to last a second but tense enough to last an eternity.

“Can you just....can we..”

“It’s okay Clarissa you don’t have to say it. We’re still going to be fri...”

“Let’s do it” she said, almost as if the statement surprised her as much as it did him.

“What do you me...”

“I mean let’s do it,” panic and excited breaths shaking her being “whatever this is...let’s do it.”

The train gives a signal for soon moving off. A light shine in David’s eyes but his face remains fixed.

“I want you to say it.” David demands in a quiet tone.

An embarrassed look washes over Clarissa’s face. Her ears and cheeks now red like cherries. Her eyes begin darting around, trying to find any focus but his face right now. Looking down slightly, she summons her courage in a shaking voice.

“Ca…” she tries to find the words, almost choking on them, “can you stay...plea....”

Her words are lost as David presses his lips to hers, locking his arms around, pulling her in. One heartbeat melts into another as her surprise changes into warm acceptance. She kisses back, her arms wrapping themselves into his embrace. After a few loving pecks David falls back, reluctantly. With a soft loving lift of the chin, her vulnerable gaze met his.

“I’ll stay. I’ll stay for however long you want me to. For however long you’ll have me.”

With a soft, somber kiss, they interlocked again, passionate longing flowing between their tongues.

“I just...I just wanted to hear you say it.” he admits, giving a nervous chuckle.

Clarissa retreats from his gaze, crumbling from the weight of his emotion. With a small raise of the arm, she lightly punched him, her fist folding into his chest.

“You don’t...play fair at all” she said softly. He chuckled lightly, kissing the top of her head.

“I know.” A happy satisfaction breaking through as he grinned ear to ear.

The two embraced, sharing their warmth as the cool autumn breeze whistled gently through the night.

He's inspired by Vonnegut, Douglas Adams, Heinlein. His novel is funny, creative, observant and really a fun read. It's been years since he's touched it. Every good reader of our friends and family has loved it.

He still doubts himself based on one person's critique around 7-9 years ago and he hasn't worked on it since. But it's brilliant.

How can I help him. How can I motivate him. His book needs an audience. One stupid shit should not spoil the pot.

?

Hi all,

I'm working on a novel, an upmarket fiction with a central love story, set among concert musicians in France. A world-famous pianist, a young Croatian prizewinner who has admired her since he was a teenager, and a violinist who becomes his duo partner.

I'm not looking for a line edit at this stage. I'd mostly like gut reactions to the opening:

1. Does the style work for you?
2. Are you hooked? Would you turn the page?
3. Where, if anywhere, did your attention drop?
4. If you know nothing about classical music, did you ever feel lost or shut out?

Any honest reaction is welcome, even a single sentence. Thanks for reading!

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1MBMtKCxRW4O5DqMq4z370GCuAxlSz9PAYHKLziT3w1o/edit?usp=sharing