A Mirror Too Honest

ATE, LOUD, AN

ones ringing, keyboards slamming, printers whirring like they were on the verge of combustion. Sophia sat at h

e times. She had mentally outlined the feature, the an

was thirty-fo

coun

knew the idea of him-a comic artist, a "creative free spirit," the kind of man who doodled

everything

ou need someone who can loosen your writing. Something with a heartbeat," he'd

want to be any

be waiting on someone who treated

e for the time again, muttering

inally burst open, the newsroom

sketchbooks falling from his arms, a coffee cup tilting dangerously in the other. He apolog

e was

lo

asn't mine-sorry! I'm here, I'm here-w

turned

eyes. The univer

his had t

entire face brightened like she was oxy

off his shoe. "Hi. I'm Dean. Sorry I'm late. I had-okay, long story. I

is arrival-thirty-seven min

d at him. "Y

"Yeah, I know.

. "You didn't acknowledge the

p. "Wow. Okay. Good

od morning,"

d that made her irritation fl

unprofes

going to be," he murmured

s is how it's going to be if

then squinted at her as if trying t

, "you're clearly the b

e clearly

good stories,

make publ

fun," he said, half-tea

lly he crashed into it, knocking a pen holder

ed the bridg

ightmare," s

it. Of co

now I'm... a lot. But I'm good at what I d

t him then-r

sn't

n't de

genuinel

hest tugged in a way she d

ed her i

get to wor

out a pencil and sket

"I'm not

really give off that vibe. Like..

ared a

smi

hat she alm

mo

"What if the opening scene is a doodle?" and "Can we add a panel where modern love is represented by tw

rge to throttle him w

er pen from her hand in t

," she

y n

using

it hard enough to

because

Living? Con

rrupt

O

ged, unc

ted to

ed to wa

eone could be so infuriating and st

se, her editor passed by, leaned down between them and

gri

ia g

mis

as no c

s... com

n't the s

at

stood up, gathering her things with m

ightly over her. "So... lun

N

ffe

N

wal

N

tru

pa

ind of

t kill me, and I don't a

me uninte

he said

don't need a truce.

daries are my favourit

ly my

lau

did

usting his backpack,

on t

xaggerated seriou

ce the way people naturally moved aside for him, the way he smiled at the re

ghte

eer

ldn't en

she

at sca

hugging her folders tightly. She need

one vi

going to ruin everyth

ia f

lammed agai

message

u don't know who y

omach

toward the newsro

lse cl

e arrived, chi

wn Nu

rt of your story

s breat

gers tr

suddenly felt mu

ones ringing, keyboards slamming, printers whirring like they were on the verge of combustion. Sophia sat at h

e times. She had mentally outlined the feature, the an

was thirty-fo

coun

knew the idea of him-a comic artist, a "creative free spirit," the kind of man who doodled

everything

ou need someone who can loosen your writing. Something with a heartbeat," he'd

want to be any

be waiting on someone who treated

e for the time again, muttering

inally burst open, the newsroom

sketchbooks falling from his arms, a coffee cup tilting dangerously in the other. He apolog

e was

lo

asn't mine-sorry! I'm here, I'm here-w

turned

eyes. The univer

his had t

entire face brightened like she was oxy

off his shoe. "Hi. I'm Dean. Sorry I'm late. I had-okay, long story. I

is arrival-thirty-seven min

d at him. "Y

"Yeah, I know.

. "You didn't acknowledge the

p. "Wow. Okay. Good

od morning,"

d that made her irritation fl

unprofes

going to be," he murmured

s is how it's going to be if

then squinted at her as if trying t

, "you're clearly the b

e clearly

good stories,

make publ

fun," he said, half-tea

lly he crashed into it, knocking a pen holder

ed the bridg

ightmare," s

it. Of co

now I'm... a lot. But I'm good at what I d

t him then-r

sn't

n't de

genuinel

hest tugged in a way she d

ed her i

get to wor

out a pencil and sket

"I'm not

really give off that vibe. Like..

ared a

smi

hat she alm

mo

"What if the opening scene is a doodle?" and "Can we add a panel where modern love is represented by tw

rge to throttle him w

er pen from her hand in t

," she

y n

using

it hard enough to

because

Living? Con

rrupt

O

ged, unc

ted to

ed to wa

eone could be so infuriating and st

se, her editor passed by, leaned down between them and

gri

ia g

mis

as no c

s... com

n't the s

at

stood up, gathering her things with m

ightly over her. "So... lun

N

ffe

N

wal

N

tru

pa

ind of

t kill me, and I don't a

me uninte

he said

don't need a truce.

daries are my favourit

ly my

lau

did

usting his backpack,

on t

xaggerated seriou

ce the way people naturally moved aside for him, the way he smiled at the re

ghte

eer

ldn't en

she

at sca

hugging her folders tightly. She need

one vi

going to ruin everyth

ia f

lammed agai

message

u don't know who y

omach

toward the newsro

lse cl

e arrived, chi

wn Nu

rt of your story

s breat

gers tr

suddenly felt mu

s warning. But is the danger a

reathe for a fu

The hallway felt narrower. Dimmer. Like the overhead lig

journalism came with its fair share of unha

as dif

as spe

get

son

er the screen before s

ive

e

rep

f-expecting someone to be standing there watching her. Nothing.

heels clicking too loudly,

rself not t

o lose if the truth ever surfaced. But those messages had always followed stories, i

message w

e

ed strange little characters on napkins. The man who could barely control

was missing

now him nearly as w

a unset

e time to think about threats. She had a draft to begin. A project to survive

s enoug

gh

ed around her in a way that usually centered her-cars honking, people shouting acros

rom the building when some

k, hand flying

e

n down the stairs instead of taking the elevat

ly what a stal

forgot to ask-do you have a preferred style for outlining the article? Bullet points? Paragra

emembered the projec

aid, adjusting her bag on her shoul

just a flick, but he noticed the ti

enough for him to read

voice dropped. "Soph

re about him, after all. But sharing them f

nking she was frightened by

," she sa

let it go. "Alright. But... for

ed a bro

eks dimpling. "You'r

ng is n

're the good ki

d. "There's no

d you have this very intense eyebrow thing

ave an eyeb

inted at her. "And ther

disbelief. "G

g his hands in exaggerat

ying not to let the cor

fa

a l

e liked it. But even the silence didn't settle her. She kept

y as she pulled out her laptop to take refuge i

hone buzz

art st

nknown

s not who yo

locked

type anything, an

Check h

lse po

k-more with ange

messaging me or I'l

be

h

all y

sn't care who

ed the numbe

he other side of the couc

as rid

bly a

bly n

formed-the kind that slipped i

t t

g his backpack onto the floor. His apartment was messy-coffee cups,

he ceiling, re

-edged. All structure and precisi

. And frustratingly beautiful in tha

d her a

uch,

led earlier during their meeting-a tiny cartoon version of h

sno

s phone

unknown number. "S

e made him sit

kn

't be worki

fro

rowned

er me

into things you s

omach

ly, the number sent

uin the people

slipped fro

athing

to call t

oc

his hair as he sto

to dismiss

o assume it

ieve this had no

his eyes

o

t

ag

g as he left his apartment in a hu

eede

tan

le

nee

dn't

er mind kept returning to Dean's face as he ask

want to thi

't want

s had unsettled her in a way

thoughts when her phone-her

wasn't the u

her e

it

n trying t

hing a

a fro

sed calls. No messag

ssage appeared

meone cont

ut

car

blood r

ad texted

est ti

watching b

t

s. Someone needed to answer questions tonight.

hallway, locking her

she f

er was wedged

led it out, he

a print

sen

mes

ne sen

he one you

ss against the door, leg

lway wa

si

her apartment,

the r

she not

eath c

slowly for

allway lights flickered once... t

h bl

darkness, s

erate footste