Jimmy sat in a middle of a bar, sipping his beer while waiting for an inspiration to struck.

It has
been almost four whole months the process of finding an idea for novel had been his problem. He felt so
burnt out. Every time he saw the white blank page, his mind started to stop. He felt like his brain cell
was dying slowly. “Come on, just one word.” He murmured to himself. Jimmy was a novelist-wanna be
who just scored a promising contract with a new publisher. Since he was a freshman in high school, he
had dream this moment. He had hope for publishing his writings. The image of his own novel printed in
paper jacketed cover had been his whole goal. Without it, he felt like he was in the middle of the ocean,
with no raft, not even a log of wood to cling on. Without the slight hope of surviving the future, he
started to drown slowly by the fear of being a pathetic loser, as punching bag of those who were
granted the gift of beautiful skin color, and whatever social-constructed beauty. Writing was his only
thing to do other than getting beat up. Once he seemed to have something to write, his brain
immediately reject it as his right thumb gently push the delete button. “ Not good enough.” “ Damn it,
why is it always the first line?” “ Pathetic” He continued to drown in self-loathing. His face was buried in
his laptop. He was started by the sound of girl near him.

“I am sorry, do you mind? Everywhere else is full. I promise I wont bother you”

“What do you mean you wont bother, your approaches is counted as bothering women.” He
talked to himself.

“ Sure, yeah.”

The girl sat down with a small of cappuccino. Jimmy slowly look up and seems to look at her. This is
another nightmare. Sat down face to face with a girl in a very awkward silences. His mind raced with a
different topic.

“ Should I talk to her.?” But she’s already busy with phone.” “ She’s probably waiting for his date.” “ Just
focus on your problem, don’t even bother to talk to her. “ His mind answered.

Jimmy continued to looked at his laptop, at the blank page and keep writing a line, and somehow
managed to delete it. It has been going for almost half hour and, evidently started to bother her.

“ Something wrong with your laptop? You seemed troubled.”

“ No, my laptop is working fine, it’s just my brain.”

“ I beg your pardon?”

“ Yeah, I seemed to forget how to write. I usually good at this. I mean a failed second grade twice, but
that was because I had to stay at the hospital for a semester. “

She just smiled.

“So, what are you working on?”

“No, no,no, I don’t want to bother you.”

“Well, I think I’ve been stood up. So, don’t worry bother me, I am already pissed.”

“ That’s even more logical reason to not bother you.”