Haunting-Adeline

I roll my eyes. “Because I manipulate people’s emo ons with my words
when they read my books,” I grouse.
“Exactly. So that’s all you do, except your mouth says the words instead
of your fingers. Fake it ll you make it, baby.”
I nod my head, looking at my underarms in the mirror from all angles.
My deodorant may claim to fight tough odors, but the shirt didn’t come
with a tag that said it was pit stain resistant.
Sighing again, I drop my arms. “It's not that I don't love mee ng my
readers, I just don't do well in crowds and social situa ons. I’m too
awkward.”
“You’re also a great liar. That’s what you do for a living. Just smile and
pretend you’re not having one big panic a ack.”
Another roll of my eyes as I grab my purse from the bed. “You’re such a
great pep-talker,” I say dryly. She snorts in response.
Daya sucks at pep-talking, and she knows it. She’s the logical person in
our friendship, while I’m the emo onal one. She’s all about offering
solu ons, while I’d rather roll around in my dread and anxiety and wax on
about it.
Guess I’m more like my mother than I thought.
I’ll s ll never admit it out loud.
The event is a blast, as usual. Every me, I work myself up for these
events, and I always end up never wan ng to leave by the me they’re
over.
Ge ng the chance to meet up with other author friends and a emp ng
to run away with all their signed books while laughing maniacally is what
truly brings me peace in life.
What truly brings me happiness is seeing the many smiling faces eager
to meet me and get signed books of mine.
I love my career as a professional manipulator. I’m fortunate to do what I
do.