POV: Scott

I got settled into my corner and tried not to think about the last time I was here. It was easier than I'd thought it would be. All the pleasant memories I'd had of Zelda were now disgusting to me and easy to put out of my mind. Except for the most recent disgusting memory, I don't think I'll ever bleach that out of my mind. All the love I'd felt had turned to hate.

I put Zelda's manuscript aside. My curiosity assured me that I'd look at it later but first I had some modifications to make to the book I was writing. No more star-crossed lovers. No more noble hero and innocent heroine. The male protagonist will become a gangster. The only heroine will be the type spelled without an e. The female protagonist will not be innocent or deserving of being rescued. She will be in for a miserable time. Her sexual betrayal will lead to a life of prostitution. She seems more than suited for it. I know, I'm venting my rage in this make-believe world, but it does seem to be helping. Lucky for Zelda it is only fiction. Not that I care what happens to Zelda.

Donna interrupted my writing to tell me it was time to close the library. We locked up and I took her to Bruschetta for a nice dinner. I really wasn't hungry. I felt like I'd never eat again. I played with my food and made small talk with Donna. She kept asking me about Zelda and I kept telling her she'd have to ask Zelda about it. I admit I did consider telling Donna everything so I could ask her if I could crash at her place tonight. There was no way I was going back to my own apartment while Zelda might still be there. My only other option was the library chair, which was just as well, because there was still a lot more I wanted to write.

I spent the entire night writing. My love story had turned into a gut-wrenching tragedy. I finished shortly before the library was supposed to open. I decided to check my grandmother's book to see if it had updated with what I'd spent the night writing. Apparently, it had. Once again, there were blank spaces scattered throughout my new additions.

Looking back to the parts of the book that came before what I'd written last night, I noticed some of the blanks that had existed there had been filled in. Mostly, they were from Zelda's perspective making her look much more favorable than I now thought she deserved.

I finally decided to give Zelda's manuscript a peek. That is when I figured out the shocking truth. Her manuscript, my manuscript, and my grandmother's book all had the same story! The library was integrating her perspectives into my story. Could this really be happening? Lack of sleep was playing tricks on me. I put Zelda's manuscript back in her desk.

Between her POV and mine, it looked like we were headed for quite the plot shift.