Banned

Some might have called her ordinary; others might not have noticed her in a crowded room, with one exception. She had crazy purple hair to match her name. Violet. Shy. Introvert. Wallflower. Plain-Jane. That's right. She felt like a nobody and watched the world pass her by, day after day since she was a little girl.
But she was somebody! She had a voice, even if it was soft, and didn't travel very far. She would be heard!
So, she wrote and wrote, scheming and plotting, exposing her innermost thoughts in the characters she created, only to have her heart ripped out in scathing reviews and harsh commentary. She brushed those reviews off, knowing even her favorite author received ruthless criticism from trolls and mean-spirited goons.
Melting into the background, Violet just took a sip of her lemonade and put the drink down next to her computer. The room was a chaotic symphony of voices and music. She found this exhilarating as she pounded away at the keyboard, writing her next chapter, plotting Kyle's next dilemma.
Deep in thought, she didn't see Stuart walk in, and she jumped as he kissed the top of her head. In typical Stuart flair, he threw the newspaper on the table without saying a word. He sat down on the opposite side of the booth and turned the paper toward Violet. Tapping his finger on the title, he mumbled, "Another book banning at the town library. This is getting ridiculous."
She smiled mischievously, picking up the offending article, asking, "How many this time?" After reading through the list, she looked over the top of the paper and giggled, "Another 50! Wow!"
Stuart tilted his head and stared at her. He knew her mind was racing with an idea. Probably an unsavory idea, but an idea, nonetheless. He waited patiently for her to finally blurt out, "I wish my book was finished. Maybe if we got it banned, sales would skyrocket me to fame."
"Are you going to write a steamy YA scene about two star-crossed lovers or a chapter or two on teenagers exploring their sexuality? That's the type of stuff they are targeting."
She shook her head and replied, "No, I am not the steamy kinda girl, and I am way past exploring my sexuality. You're enough to deal with!" She accidentally snorted, laughing at her pathetic attempt at a joke.
Stuart jumped out of his seat, pushed her further into the booth, and pulled her into his embrace. He gave her the biggest, wettest public kiss he could muster. Pulling away, breathless and slightly embarrassed at his very public display of affection, he teased, "You mean like that?"
Swatting him away, she groaned, "Go sit back over there. I already told you I would not write about you or any of my friends in my books. It doesn't matter how outlandish you behave; I still will not put pen to paper and tell your tale." Sticking her tongue out at him, she crossed her arms, pretending to be mad at him.
"Don't you get all cheeky on me; you loved it!"
Violet blushed. She did secretly love his spontaneity. Well, she loved everything about Stuart, even the damn goofy look he was giving her now. She reached across the table and held his hands before saying, "You know they are just idiots. We can buy books in the bookstore and rent online through a thousand e-retailers. There is no way to keep these books from teenagers. Banning them elevates them to an entirely new level, a level that makes me want to read it, just because."
"I get it. Besides, if you don't like a genre, just don't read the damn thing." Stuart looked annoyed with the entire conversation but not with his precious Violet.
A sneaky smile fell across her face; she whispered, "What if I add something to my book and we get it banned? Think of how many books I could sell. The fame."
Stuart gave her a look, frowning. "I don't think it would work how you think it would. Most book bannings are local and don't get much press."
"We can still try!" she protested.
They were interrupted by a gum-snapping waitress who had as little interest in their order as they had in her. "Hi, can I get you a drink or something?" she asked with sarcasm in her voice. She was pissed at Violet for sitting in her section for an hour before Stuart arrived, impacting her ability to make tips.
Stuart turned to her and replied, "Yes, I will have an iced tea, and we will start with the brisket fries." He gave her a big smile, hoping she would disappear, only to return with his drink. He waited for her to eventually leave before telling Violet, "Just keep writing and learning how to do your ads on FB and the other platforms. You don't need to play games to gain attention."
"You're such a buzz kill," she mumbled under her breath.
"I know. That's why you love me."
Violet rolled her eyes, pretending to give up on her plotting and scheming, but this wasn't the end.
NOPE! This was the beginning!

Slamming her computer shut, Violet ran down the stairs and into the kitchen, glaring at Stuart, who was bracing for the storm, she was about to unleash. He knew someone was misbehaving, and he wasn't going to get to finish his dinner until she vented her frustrations on him.
He wanted to laugh at her disheveled appearance. Her purple hair was hanging out of her makeshift ponytail, with a pencil tucked behind her ear, her shirt was stained, and her socks were mismatched once again. She was a hot mess. His hot mess. Trying not to laugh, which would ratchet up her anger beyond level 8 mean, he asked: "What did Kyle do this time?"
"It's not what he did! It's what he refuses to do! If he wasn't imaginary, I might just kill him off!" She huffed, walking around the breakfast nook and unapologetically grabbing his fork. She stabbed his meatball and shoved it in her mouth.
He silently watched her chewing like an angry chipmunk, pretending they were having a serious discussion about real-world events. He offered to help her with her unruly character, suggesting, "If he refuses to listen to you, just write him out of the storyline. He's your creation. Why are you letting him control you?"
With a mouthful of food, she tried to yell, "He's not controlling me!" Little bits of meatball sprayed out of her mouth, but the fact that she sprayed Stuart with his dinner didn't faze her. She was laser-focused on getting Kyle to comply with her predetermined plot. He wasn't going to force her to redo the plot. Not this time, Kyle. Not this time!
Taking back his fork, before she reached level 9 mean, he asked, "Then why are you angry at him?"
She opened the utensil drawer, pulled another fork out, and stabbed the innocent pasta from his dish. Waiving the fork in the air, the pasta flew across the room, landing on the floor. Without missing a beat, she yelled, "Uh-oh!" her call signal for the dog to come to vacuum the kitchen floor. Throwing her fork in the sink, she grabbed his garlic bread and shoved the first bite in her mouth before answering Stuart with a mouthful of his dinner, "Kyle refuses to have an existential crisis. He just wants to be normal and boring, like me."
He put his plate back on the counter and pulled his angry little author into his arms. "Perhaps you need a distraction from Kyle. How about we go upstairs alone? You leave all of your characters in your computer for the night. We can watch a movie and then, well, you know." He kissed her on the tip of her nose before she responded.
She was flabbergasted. "I have deadlines!"
"You also have a jealous husband. I am tired of hearing about Kyle this and Kyle that." He winked at her and continued to tease her, "I don't care what that little brat is up to. I want you for myself tonight." He hoped the jealous husband angle would win him some points and bring the anger down to a manageable level. Level 3 mean would be good. He could handle that!
She whined, "Stuart! I need to finish this blasted book! Until I finish, I don't have time for myself, let alone you!"
He was not going to be dissuaded, not tonight. She looked too cute for her own good. "Just one night. I promise to make it worthwhile, and since you refuse to write about me in your books, I can be naughty as hell."
Pulling her closer, he whispered, "Let me pamper you." He watched as her defenses started to fall. Wall by wall, she was giving in. He knew she would. He took her hand, shut off the lights, and yelled to the dog, "I will be back down to take you out later!"

Pulling her favorite blanket over her head, she closed her eyes and mumbled to Kyle, "You are going down, little buddy! I have deadlines, you little hellion. I will destroy you if you can't get your act together." Reaching level 7 mean, she tossed the blanket off and started to pace around her office. "How shall I destroy you?"
Walking out into the hall, she proclaimed, "I could have a vampire drain you, but darn it. This isn't a fantasy book." Stopping in her tracks, she slowly smiled, whispering, "Perhaps, I shall change the plot and turn it into one. A dragon might want to eat you! Or an ogre! No! Not evil enough."
"Are you planning on destroying me again? What did I do this time?" Stuart laughed as he looked at her frenzied state.
Realizing she was not alone, she let out a nervous laugh, replying, "It's Kyle. He's impossible. I need to write him off the pages of this book, or he will be the death of me."
"If he was real, I could do the dirty work for you, but..." he shrugged.
Rolling her eyes at him, she whined, "I have never had a character like him. I rewrote this last chapter three times and always ended up in the same place. He refuses to accept his fate."
"So, what makes you think he will not defeat the dragon or the ogre if you rewrite your story?" He braced himself, knowing she was heading for level 8 mean. He loved their little joke about labeling her temper tantrums when the likes of Kyle or Samantha were derailing her writing.
"Oh! To hell with this! He can have his way! I will just rewrite the plot for the hundredth time!" Storming back into her office, she sat on her bean bag chair, grabbed her computer, and yelled, "Fine! You win! You can be the wallflower! I will just find someone else to bear the burden of the crisis! You shall be relegated to a second-class character! How's that?"
She heard Stuart laughing at her threat and caught a glimpse of him standing in the doorway. Looking at him, she asked, "What? Don't give me that look. You cover the political beat and never have to worry about creating drama. They create enough to last ten lifetimes."
"I just wanted to kiss you goodbye and wish you good luck." He walked over and kissed her forehead, whispering, "Send Kyle away to a boarding school. He will have a crisis then."
Violet's eyes grew wide. "Oh! Uh! I like that! I can send him to a posh boarding school in the middle of nowhere England, and he will be the punching bag. He won't be able to get out of this situation!"
"Hmmm! You're welcome. You can show me how much you appreciate me when I get home tonight." He gave her an evil grin and kissed her again before heading to work.
"No guarantees!"
Alone again, Bailey came bounding in with a toy rabbit and dropped it in her lap. "Silly girl, where did you find this little guy? You haven't played with him in ages." She rubbed his head and promised, "All right, another hour of writing, then I will take you for a walk."
Bailey curled up, believing her promise, and waited patiently as she pounded away at her keyboard. An hour turned to two, but she gloated a few thousand words later, "Little Kyle, what do you have to say for yourself now? How's life as a wallflower going? Life just got a bit more unpredictable, didn't it?"
Violet twisted Kyle's plot, sending him to Hilltop Academy in the Lake District in England. Switching schools in the middle of his sophomore year, for any teenager, is unpleasant. Add in a new country, upper-class boys, and culture clashes. You have the ruination of a wallflower. She was proud of her cliffhanger! The boys carried Kyle out of his dorm room in the middle of the night and locked him in the catacombs under the school's chapel. He is startled awake with a passionate kiss.
His life will never be the same; ergo, existential crisis!

She stared at the words on her computer screen and was thrilled with her plot twist. "Kyle, I have outwitted you this time!" she gloated, rereading the last few paragraphs.
Kyle looked around the dormitory room with disgust. How had his wallflower life in the middle of nowhere Pennsylvania landed him in a posh boarding school in the middle of nowhere England? He was furious with his father for abandoning him in this forsaken place, where hell on earth was his reality. The other boys had undoubtedly made him feel unwelcome, unwanted, and unaccepted upon his arrival this afternoon. For the most part, they had avoided him. No beatings. No uncomfortable wedgies. Nothing but silence. This worried him more than anything, as he slid under the covers for the night, tucking the blade in his back pocket for protection. From what, he was not sure, but best to be prepared. Their silence could come in the form of an insidious joke during the night.
Sleep remained elusive for hours, regardless of how exhausted he was. Somewhere around 3 am, sleep took over, and he was out cold within minutes. Max, Edward, and Louie quietly carried him out of their dorm room, down the stairs, and out the back door. He threatened to wake up several times, but fortunately for them, he remained asleep. Louie opened the door to the chapel and unlocked the gates to the underground vaults.
Using their phones for light, they struggled to descend the spiral staircase to the old catacombs. Once they entered the smallest vault, they placed Kyle on one of the stone slabs and bound his feet.
"We should give him a welcome that he will never forget," Max suggested with an evil glint in his eyes.
Louie asked, "Like, what do you have in mind?"
"I don't know. Something like this." Max walked over to the slab and climbed onto Kyle, straddling his legs. He looked at his friends and winked, asking, "Ever kiss a guy before?" Without waiting for their reaction, he leaned down and kissed Klye, sliding his tongue into his mouth.
Kyle's eyes popped open as he felt Max's sloppy wet kiss. Without thinking, he reached for his knife and pushed it against Max's throat. Breaking from the kiss, he growled, "Get the hell off of me. You creep."
Violet ended the chapter with that little cliffhanger and started Chapter 14. The Crisis with Kyle's reaction.
What the bloody hell? Did they think kissing him was funny? Would it break him? Anger built up in him, hearing their laughter echoing in the vault. He tried to see who else was down there, but they had turned their cell phones off, so no light penetrated the darkness. Max took advantage of Kyle's lapse in attention, grabbed the knife from his hand, and placed the tip of the blade in the center of his chest, hissing, "If you speak a word of this to anyone, you will be a dead man. Do you understand?"
Max hopped off the slab, turned Kyle to the wall, and bound his hands. Then the three bullies ran up the spiral staircase and locked the gate, leaving Kyle alone in the darkness.
Kyle knew something like this was going to happen. How he reacted now would determine how they would treat him for the next three years. A thousand thoughts ran through his mind. But a single idea captured his imagination. The one he would act on to get Max back.
He needed to figure out a way to get out of this damp cellar or wherever the hell he was, but first, he needed to free his hands. Rolling over, he misjudged the width of the slab and landed on the stone floor with a thump, crushing his hands.
A sharp pain radiated from his hand, and his head banged on the stone floor. He knew he had broken something in his hand and could taste blood in his mouth. Just great!
How was he going to untie himself now?
Except Kyle didn't manage to free himself. His hand was too swollen to untie the ropes. When he didn't show up for classes, a professor started a search party for him, and they found him shivering and in shock around lunchtime.
***
Violet was very proud of her cliffhangers and wondered how Kyle would escape this mess. Would the rumor mill at school destroy his reputation? Would he beg his father to pick him up? Would the next three years ruin him? She plotted and schemed but only came to one damn conclusion. Kyle was stronger and more resilient than she gave him credit for. He was pissed about the kiss and his time down in the vault. His broken hand and the days spent in the infirmary. While he sat around with nothing to do, he hatched a plan, and no matter how hard she tried to rewrite the plot, the bastard always managed to weasel his way out.
When Stuart came home, she was dressed and pacing around. Before he had a chance to ask her how her day went, she blurted out, "We are going out to dinner before I destroy Kyle."
"What happened?" He asked, taking his little spitfire into his arms.
She looked at him as if her crisis was apparent. "Your plot only worked for a chapter or two. He's winning again! I hate him!"
Stuart accidentally snorted, questioning, "What did he do now?"
"Get your coat. We can talk about it on the way there. I am hangry!"
"Well, I see that." He said as he grabbed his coat and car keys. He ushered her out without another word, knowing exactly where they were going for dinner. There was only one place when she was this mad.
Once settled in the car, she growled, "He isn't letting the fact that the bullies brought him to the catacombs, tied him up, kissed him, and left him there. He was found hours later with a broken hand and practically in shock. What does he do? Does he cower? Does he try to avoid them? No! No! No! He will walk up to Max and kiss him in front of everyone! That is the most outrageous way to hand things. He's a fool, and I haven't found a way to rewrite this!"
"Why are you so upset about this?"
"Because he is supposed to be broken, yet he manages to survive."
"So, you are pissed that your character is resilient." Stuart briefly looked at her as he drove to their favorite restaurant.
Exasperated, she whined, "Yes! The entire plot was about a wallflower and how the bullies broke him. He just refuses."
"Violet, honestly. You are getting all level 9 mean over this. Shouldn't you save this for when your editor tells you there is a major plot hole and you need to rewrite your story? You are not the first author to deal with unruly characters. Hell, the politicians I write about keep doing and saying the most horrific things. I can't make this stuff up. Even when I am rooting for someone, they flub it, and I am forced to write about their most embarrassing moments."
She turned and glared at him, loudly saying, "But they are not your creations! I made Kyle!"
Stuart muttered, "I give up." Hoping she would see another side to this after a bowl full of onion rings and a greasy burger.

Stuart walked around to her side of the car and opened the door. He pulled her into his arms and teased, "We are getting the biggest order of onion rings, a chocolate shake, and the heart attack burger, then we are going home to watch a rom-com or something like that. Perhaps we won't finish the movie." He winked at her before starting to drag her into the restaurant.
Pretending to protest, she quipped, "I hate when we start movies and never finish them."
Turning back to look at her, he asked, "Even if something better comes up."
Playing all innocent, she batted her eyes. "What could be better than a good rom-com?"
"Acting it out," he growled in her ear before opening the door. They headed straight for their favorite corner booth and sat beside each other, arm in arm.
Stuart loved Violet just as she was. Nothing more. Nothing less. He always managed to drag her out when she got moody about unruly characters, and he was confident that this was all an act to get him alone. Or perhaps, it was just a ruse for onion rings and chocolate shakes. Either way, he was glad to be by her side, laughing about everything.
"How was your daily jaunt to capitol hill? What was the most outrageous thing you heard?" Violet asked as she stuffed an onion ring in her mouth.
He shook his head and laughed, "It's never just one thing. It's like both sides are trying to 'out-stupid' the other. It makes my job interesting. Unlike you, I can't just write them off the pages when they behave like children."
"And what's the most childish thing then? Maybe I can use their tomfoolery in my book. I mean, they always act like teenagers, don't they."
"Some of them do. So, after reading about another shooting, Marvin was in a right mood. He got into a spat with the other side on who was right and who was wrong. It got pretty heated, and they both sounded like fools at the end of the day."
Bumping his shoulder, she teased, "I don't know how you do it. It's like I always said, you should have followed my footsteps. Fiction writing is all the rage."
"Rage-inducing," Stuart smirked as he pulled the chocolate shake from her icy hands. He slurped the rest of the frosty drink and waited for her retort.
"Hey, I resemble that remark only when I have faithless characters. But honestly, you don't have to take sides. You just write stories."
"Ok, so are you telling me fiction writers never have their biases intertwined within their plots?"
"No. Not at all. Some do. Just saying, you don't have to."
Brushing away a stray purple lock, he asked, "Well, my Violet, what is your agenda with Kyle?"
She blushed, knowing she damn well had an agenda with him, and that's why she was so pissed that he refused to stick to her storyline. Finally, she admitted, "We all have our own agendas, Stuart, just like your agenda for this evening. That's not to say I am not a willing participant. I am looking forward to what you have planned for this evening."
"Well, let's get you home, my fair lady. We have an agenda to fulfill."
As she stood, she whispered, "I might have to put a wrinkle or two in your plans for this evening."
He looked at her with raised eyebrows without saying a word.
She mumbled, "You will just have to wait and see."
He tried his best to get it out of her their entire ride home. She was good, spinning tales and riddles, driving him mad.
After they parked the car in their driveway, he huffed, "Well, tell me now, or we will sit out here all night."
She winked at him, teasing, "See, I have already interrupted your plans with ridiculous riddles. Now would you prefer to act on your agenda or mine?"
"Mine!"
"That's what I thought."
Once inside, Bailey bounded down the stairs and insisted on playing with his new toys before they could settle down for a movie. Giving Violet a chance to sneak upstairs and set her plan in motion. Ten minutes later, she came downstairs with a silver bag with its blue ribbon hanging from the handles. She placed it on the table in front of the couch but never mentioned its purpose.
"What's in that bag?" Stuart finally asked, as his curiosity won out.
"After we finish the movie, you can open it," she replied nonchalantly.
Reaching for the bag, he pulled his hand back when she swatted it. "Why wait?" He pretended to look hurt.
"Because my agenda dictates that we wait," she said straight-faced.
Pouting, he grumbled, "Well, what if I don't like your agenda?"
"Tough. Stop acting like a child so that we can finish the movie, and you can open it up."
Still pouting, he snapped, "Fine."
Thirty minutes later, she handed him the bag and remained silent as he untied the ribbon and removed the pink tissue paper. He reached in and took out two petite little socks. One was pink, and the other was blue.
He leaned in, kissed her sweet lips, and whispered, "I love you, and I can't wait to feel your baby bump. A baby. Wow. You can mess with my agenda anytime."
Violet placed her hands on Stuart's face and leaned in. "I love you too." Kissing him back, she forgot about Kyle and his problems. She forgot everything else and got lost in her crazy, loving husband's agenda for the evening.