the dreamer

"I struggle to think about what thinkers would think of me" 

[wesleyhale]

theainenylund:

“It’s weird if I call you Wesley. You’re some famous author I met at a coffee shop,” she stared at her feet.

“Who I was before I moved here was no book character, I’ll tell you that,” Aine’s expression was melancholy. She was an extremely bittersweet person.

“I thought coming here, to New York City, it would all make me glorious. But I’m the same and nothing has changed besides the pace.”

“It’s not that strange if you try,” he admitted. “I’m really not that well known.” He shook his head, “Aine...listen to me. You are not just some person in a story, and I am not trying to make you something you’re not. You have to stay...you can’t run away when things get tough.” 

[wesleyhale]

theainenylund:

“But I can’t be me!” Aine exclaimed. “I’m out of options. I’m having an identity crisis, Mr. Hale.”

Aine plopped down on her bed, looking at his hand on her luggage, “Does it get better with age?”

“Why not?” He asked with a sigh. “Well, those aren’t much fun...and you don’t have to call me Mr. Hale.” 

He sat next to her, shrugging. “I don’t really think so. Sometimes it’s hard to know who you are, but that doesn’t mean you have to run away.” 

[wesleyhale]

theainenylund:

Aine had no words for Wesley. He was perfect to her in every aspect, her only companion in this lonely city. She refused to be selfish and cling to him like the parasite she had become.

“Mr. Hale, I can guarantee you that I am not some special heroine to use in your plot line. I can barely handle being myself let alone a character in your book.”

As she continued to fold her clothing and shove it into a black canvas bag, Aine worked herself into a frenzy. Her breaths were short and frisk, her long, straight hair slowly became an even bigger mess than usual. “I don’t know how to be someone else. And it’s killing me.

His heart thumped furiously at the thought of losing not only his friend but his muse. “I...I should’ve asked you, I know. But she’s not entirely like you. It’s just...you seem so lost but you know exactly where you’re going...and I couldn’t help but follow.” 

He shook his head, pressing his hand on her suitcase to close it. “You don’t have to be anyone but yourself.” 

[elliegreyback-deactivated201812]

“I’m going home. I don’t belong here,” Aine said to the slight stranger, packing her bags. She did not find joy in Akamai.

[wesleyhale]

Wes stared blankly, not sure how to answer to the girl he was so fond off. “I wrote the first half of my novel...I think it’s been about you in some weird way. You can’t go.” 

[wesleyhale]

beau-holland:

Beau shook her head, holding onto his arm and pulling him the other way. “Behind that wall, forget it, just lets get out of here.”

“I...well, if you think that’s best,” he hesitated before taking her hand and moving the two in the direction of his home. “Why aren’t you wearing shoes?”

[beau-holland]

Walking down the streets of New York, barefoot, Beau kept looking back, this strange inkling haunt her. Picking up the pace, she heard something again and grabbed the closest person she could find. “I think someone’s following me.”

[wesleyhale]

 Wesley was overcome with concern when a barefoot and concerned Beau came into his vision. Reaching for her arm, he pulled her near him. “Where are they?” He asked in a hushed tone. 

[wesleyhale]

brendon-rulli:

“You have a mob outside your door?” he shook his head, “That sounds awful”

“A metaphorical mob,” he replied, “But a mob, nonetheless.” 

[wesleyhale]

anthonywilliamsnyu:

That sounds great me to. Let’s have some fun and celebrate your accomplishments. 

“Anything you’d like to celebrate?” 

[wesleyhale]

theashleywhite:

“I think that’s the most flattering thing anyone has ever said to me.” Ashley grinned now. The alcohol and the cute writer guy was getting to her. “You definitely do,” she complied with a sad sigh. She hated being so high maintenance. “Lawyer. First choice was uh, Yale but, shit happened.”

“I try to be as charming as possible at all times,” he said with a laugh. Wesley nodded, “I went to NYU. So, don’t consider it to be terrible. Has a lot to offer if you look in the right places.” 

[wesleyhale]

brendon-rulli:

“I’m sure it’s well deserved fame, I’m going to have to read your book now” he smiled, “It’s better than nothing, right?”

“Well, tell me if you like it,” he replied. “You can tell the mob outside my door that.” 

[wesleyhale]

evieharmon:

“I have a vivid mind. Hi, hello, I’m Evie, have you not met me before? So glad you’re finally joining me. You doof,” she huffed, before taking a gulp from her drink. “Okay. Recite it to me. All the greats have their shit memorized. Go.” 

“No I don’t think we have. Nice to meet ya, Eva,” he teased, a smile gracing his lips. “No, it’s not memorized. I have a title, though: ‘The Girl With The Red Bow.’ That’s all you get for now.” 

[wesleyhale]

anthonywilliamsnyu:

Honestly, I can respect that. How about I buy you a drink?

“You sure can! But the next round is on me.” 

[wesleyhale]

brendon-rulli:

“That is a big deal, that’s awesome. You’re like-…kinda famous, in the book lovers world” he smiled. “Well they’ll be happy that you’re releasing another book at least”

“Thank you! I try not to be,” he laughed. “Well, I wouldn’t be too hopeful that it comes out anytime soon.” 

[wesleyhale]

evieharmon:

“Shut up and show me the first draft,” she scoffed. “Go find a pocket pussy and fuck yourself.” 

“That’s so....vivid,” he cringed, before ordering another drink and her sprite. “I don’t have one on me, unfortunately. Just here to drink.” 

[wesleyhale]

brendon-rulli:

“That’s insane!” he smiled, “Well you were going to be on Ellen, you can’t be that bad of a writer.”

“It was a big deal, apparently,” he shrugged. “I think it was from the literal frenzy it caused amongst YA readers, but it died out. People barely know who I am anymore, and those who do I are pissed I don’t have anything else out yet. I’m like the Frank Ocean of writers.”

[wesleyhale]

brendon-rulli:

“Oh you already have another book?” he questioned, “What’s it called? I’ll buy a copy”

“Yeah, it’s pretty popular. I was gonna be on Ellen,” he said with a laugh. “It’s called ‘The Boy With The Blue Eyes.’ I wouldn’t recommend it.”  He leaned in, “I’m a terrible writer.” 

[wesleyhale]

anthonywilliamsnyu:

Well, congrats man. I know that kind of thing isn’t always easy. What’s it about?

“Thanks,” he beamed. “It’s a loooong fucking story, and I’d rather party than talk about that fucking book.” A laugh fell from his lips as another shot found his lips.