"I've got it! I've got it. The Golden Rambler. Huh? How good is that?"
"I don't even...what...what is that?"
"The name for your villain."
"Wait, hold on, let me make sure I understand." She took a deep breath, trying to focus on how eager he looked, how proud he was of his fucking awful contribution. "You want me to name the killer in my oh-so-serious crime drama The Golden Rambler? Seriously?"
"Yeah, why? Don't you like it?"
"He sounds like he should be wearing yellow spandex!"
"I know, but that's what's great about it. It'll really liven things up. I mean, the guy kills what...thirty-four people in the first chapter? There's got to be something about him that people can like, and a cool superhero like name would really help."
She set down her pen and took another deep breath.
"So, what do you think?" he asked, still beaming.
"It's the worst fucking name I've ever heard. Seriously, what are you, twelve? Do you not understand what I'm trying to create here? This is not a joke. You just don't understand what it's like to be a serious artist."
"And you do? You're sitting in the kitchen in your pyjamas talking about this great masterpiece you're working on. How many words have you even written?"
"Well, I...I can't start until...the number of words...that's not the-"
"Get over yourself. You're just some chick who wants to write the next great novel, but it's never going to happen until you put some words on paper. Until then, my suggestions, fucking awful as they may be, are just as valid as yours. I'm going to work. Some of us actually have proper jobs," he said, and then stalked out of the kitchen.
She waited until she heard the front door bang shut before allowing the tears to well up.
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