Nov 1st Daily 1k intro

Instructions

I walked through the forests of Fantasy, back to the village I was now supposed to call home. I hated the cheerfulness and stereotypical-ness of the elves that lived there. Of course, all the interesting characters were on the tour bus or back in their own worlds. As I get closer to the small village, I can hear the faint sound of music coming from the central square. The elves are obsessed with music, but this doesn’t sound like the usual music they play. More classical than folk-y. As I approach the square, I see a girl dancing around and playing violin. I feel a vague sense of recognition, but can’t see her face yet. When the song finally comes to an end, she bows and then I see her face. Rose. A low growl escapes my throat as memories of the absolute disdain she treated me with last time I saw her crowd into my mind. Other thoughts crowd into my head too. About how she created me, so she can treat me however she wants. This is how I know she’s writing about me right now, twisting my thoughts to what she wants. Rose’s eyes meet mine and she smirks. “Hello.” Nameless person, echoes in my head. I hate that she reminded me. Rose tilts her head and snaps. A busy but quaint cafe squishes itself into the side of the square, glowing invitingly. I feel my legs leading me into following Rose into the cafe, disobeying everything I’m telling them. Rose sits down at a booth and I–sorry, my body sits down next to her. “What song was that?” I ask her. Not that I’m actually interested, she probably just wants an excuse to tell you. Rose smiles, a genuine smile this time. “Humoresque, by Dvorak. That’s pronounced Dvorjak for those of you reading this.” I frown at her, confused. “You know,” she says, “the reasons you exist?” That just makes my frown deeper. “Well, anyway. Since we are having this nice dinner together, why don’t I tell you about myself?” It’s clearly a rhetorical question, so I don’t say anything. “And maybe while we are at it, we can come up with a name for you.” That gets my attention. “What?” “You know, since I unhelpfully forgot to name you earlier, we can come up with one now. That will certainly make it easier to think of you when I’m coming up with stories.” I didn’t care what her reason was, I just wanted to finally be able to think of myself as more than an ‘I.’ “What shall we start with? My family? And maybe your family too, since you don’t have that either.” I glared at her, barely keeping myself from full-on fighting her. Rose pretended to be oblivious. “I am the oldest of three, with a younger brother and sister. You lived with a single mom and your younger brother before becoming the tour guide. Maybe you could even be a tour guide because of some chivalrious reason, like supporting your family or something.” I hated that even. As though it was a wow that I could be have been doing my old job for an honest, selfless reason. Rose looked happy with her decision. “You definitely have the right temperment for that family.” A waitress comes by and asks what we want to drink, when Rose reveals that she’s twelve, and therefore under drinking age. We both order a ginger ale. “You don’t look twelve.” I tell her “I prefer being sixteenish when I talk to my characters. Makes them more likely to believe me.” I squint at her. “You could just make them believe you. You do write the stories.” Rose looked surprised. “Yeah, you’re right. I never thought of that.” The moment disappears as soon as it came. “You are sixteen, ’kay?” “Uhhh, yeah. Sure.” “What do you do for fun?” I gape at her. “You’re asking me?” “I guess so.” She shrugs. “I enjoy theater, reading and writing. And also violin.” “What’s your favorite book?” I snap back immediately. Rose thinks hard for a second. “If you are a true book lover, like I am, you shouldn’t be able to decide,” she says at last, sagely. “Same.” I tell her. Rose looks surprised for a second. And then changes the subject. “Did you know I have been playing violin for seven years?” (continued in credits)