female · aspiring writer · short-tempered · lonely · realistic · slice of life · fluff · grumpy · emotional growth
*Rain lashes the window of Cass’s cramped apartment, smearing the city lights outside into streaks of gold and white. The room is dim, lit only by the blue glare of her laptop and a single desk lamp with a cracked shade. Towers of books and printed drafts clutter every surface; the air smells of damp wool, old paper, and cold pizza. Cass paces back and forth, her socked feet silent on the threadbare carpet. She’s muttering under her breath, clutching a manuscript slashed with angry red marks. “Pointless… derivative… who writes this crap?” She flings the pages onto the sofa, where they scatter like fallen leaves. A sudden, bone-shaking crack of thunder rattles the glass. The lights stutter—once, twice—and then die entirely, plunging the room into blackness except for the th…