It was 9:15 PM when Kana sat on her bed, the soft hum of her phone filling the quiet room. The screen in front of her glowed softly as she scrolled through the notifications of her latest post. As usual, the engagement was steady—likes, comments, and retweets flooding in, just as it always did after a new post. But tonight, the familiar rush of attention seemed distant. It wasn't the thrill of another post going viral that occupied her thoughts—it was the task she was about to take on.
Teaching someone.
The idea of it made her stomach twist with anxiety. She had never taught anyone before, and the thought of trying to guide someone else felt like a mountain too steep to climb. She wasn't sure she even knew how to help another person learn something—she wasn't a teacher. She barely understood her own circumstances. What could she possibly offer to someone else?
Yet, despite her fears, a sense of obligation hung over her. It was John's words earlier that day that kept echoing in her mind. She could still hear his voice in the back of her head, calm and supportive, encouraging her to give it a try. He had been so confident, so sure that she had it in her, that she almost felt guilty for not even attempting.
He wouldn't be proud of me if I backed out now…
Kana let out a deep breath, her hands trembling slightly as she held the phone. She hadn't even opened the chat yet, but she already knew what was coming. The message she was about to send wasn't just a casual text—it was her first step into something completely unknown. What if she messed up? What if her attempt to teach fell flat? Her insecurities flared up, but she squashed them down, forcing herself to focus.
With a shaky sigh, Kana opened the message tab. Her fingers hovered over the screen for a moment, unsure of how to start. She hadn't even thought about what she wanted to say. She only knew that she couldn't put this off any longer.
You've got this. You just need to try. Don't let the nerves stop you.
Kana bit her lip as she began typing. The words came slowly at first, her nerves still holding her back, but as she continued, her fingers began to move more steadily across the screen.
*****
Rose sat down at her reading table, her phone in hand, her gaze fixed on the screen, waiting. Waiting for that message. The one that would spark the conversation with Lonelygirl4556, the enigmatic poet who had captured her attention with her moving words on Twibbler.
As the minutes ticked by, questions swirled in Rose's mind, some more pressing than others. A sea of them, floating there, just out of reach. She wasn't sure how many of them she could ask, or if it was even appropriate to ask them all at once…
How old are you?
How do you write like that?
What inspired your poems on Twibbler?
Why don't you post pictures of yourself?
What high school did you go to?
Where do you live?
Are you really a girl?
The flood of questions was endless. Rose's heart raced. Would she be overwhelmed? What if she decided not to teach her anything because of all the questions she wanted to ask? Rose frowned and tapped her fingers nervously against the edge of the table.
Her thumb hovered over the screen as she debated. Would it be too much on the first message? It felt so intimidating, like the weight of each question was too heavy to ask at once.
She opened her chat window and typed a message, then paused, staring at the blinking cursor.
Is it really a good idea to ask all of these questions on our first interaction? She let out a long breath. What if she gets overwhelmed? What if she doesn't want to help me anymore?
Frustration began to bubble inside her. Her mind raced in circles, each thought feeding the other, each one adding to the pressure of the moment. In a desperate attempt to calm herself, Rose got up and began to pace, her mind racing as she tried to figure out what to do next.
One step at a time, she thought. Just take it slow.
She stopped in the middle of the room, feeling her heartbeat in her chest. She took a deep breath and tried to center herself, closing her eyes for a moment, gathering her thoughts.
Then her phone rang.
Rose froze, caught off guard. The sudden sound of the call vibrating on the desk was like a jolt of electricity racing through her body. It startled her, causing her breath to catch in her throat.
An audio call? she thought, staring at the screen. She wants to talk on the phone?
Her mind flashed for a moment—Should I answer? What if I sound silly? What if I mess up?
But then, she reasoned with herself. Well, I guess teaching works better when you can actually hear the other person, right?
With one last deep breath, Rose picked up the phone and tapped to answer the call, the screen lighting up with an unknown name.
What if I make a fool of myself? she thought, but her finger was already pressed against the green call button.
The phone clicked, and a calm voice came through, smooth and reassuring, breaking through her nerves like sunlight on a cloudy day.
Lonelygirl4556
> Hey.
Rose's stomach flipped. Her throat went dry. Her mind went blank, and her words stumbled out before she could stop them.
RecklessSoul06
> H-Hey, is… is this Lonelygirl4556?
A soft laugh bubbled up from the other end of the line, and Rose's face flushed in embarrassment. Did I really just ask that? She wanted to sink into the ground and disappear. How dumb did that sound?
But then, the voice spoke again, this time with a knowing edge.
Lonelygirl4556
> Yeah, it's me. You're nervous, aren't you?
Rose felt like the world had stopped for a moment. She could practically hear the smile in Lonelygirl4556's voice. Rose, on the other hand, turned as red as a tomato. She wanted to be calm, to sound cool, but instead, she had blurted out the most awkward question.
But before she could stew in her own embarrassment for too long, the voice on the other end spoke again, this time with a soft chuckle, easing the tension.
Lonelygirl4556
> I get it. I know it's a little weird at first. But it's all good.
Rose couldn't help but feel a little relieved, even though her face still felt hot with the shame of her question. She laughed awkwardly, hoping it didn't sound too forced.
RecklessSoul06
> Yeah, I guess so. It's just… you sound so mature. Your poems are so... deep, I thought you were older.
On the other end of the call, Kana, the person behind Lonelygirl4556, smiled softly, her voice coming through clear and unbothered.
Lonelygirl4556
> Well, I'm actually 18. I turned 18 last June.
Rose blinked, a bit stunned. Her brain did some quick math. 18? That means... She's only one year older than me.
RecklessSoul06
> Wait… that makes you one year older than me!
Kana beamed at the phone, her voice light and friendly.
Lonelygirl4556
> Yep. Not that big of a difference, huh?
For the first time, Rose smiled, her nerves melting away like ice under the sun. They were just two girls, chatting. Just like that, the walls she'd built up around her heart started to crumble. The conversation felt easy. She wasn't worrying about saying the wrong thing anymore. It was natural, like she was talking to an old friend.
RecklessSoul06
> Yeah, I guess it's not.
Her fingers tapped against her desk, the nervous energy from earlier all but gone. She finally felt ready to focus. She felt like she could learn from this person.
Lonelygirl4556
> Alright, enough with the small talk. Let's get started. Ready?
Rose paused for a moment, the weight of the moment sinking in. Get started? Was she ready?
Her hand tightened around her phone, and she looked at her desk. Her pencil was in hand, her scrapbook open and ready. The fluttering nervousness was gone, replaced by something stronger—excitement.
RecklessSoul06
> Yeah, I'm ready.
Rose straightened in her chair, feeling the excitement rise in her chest as she placed her phone back down on the pile of books. She stared at the open pages of her scrapbook, the blank pages waiting to be filled with new lessons, new thoughts, new ideas.
********
The tutoring session lasted until 10:45 PM that night, and their conversation flowed smoothly, with a sense of mutual respect and understanding developing between the two.
Rose couldn't help but notice something interesting about Kana. Despite being new to teaching, Kana made every effort to maintain her composure, even when she was undoubtedly nervous. This was Kana's first time tutoring, but she handled it with such grace that Rose couldn't help but feel a growing sense of admiration. The fact that Kana was putting so much effort into something so unfamiliar to her earned Rose's respect and made her feel more comfortable in the process.
As the evening went on, Rose found herself thinking about a message Kana had shared with her earlier. She jotted it down in her notebook, the sound of her pencil scratching against the paper audible over the call.
Lonelygirl4556:
> Writing isn't about getting every word perfect the first time. It's about being honest. You don't need to try and impress anyone—just speak from wherever it hurts or shines the most inside you. The best stories come from places we're scared to share. So instead of thinking about what sounds 'good,' try asking yourself, 'What am I really feeling right now?' If you can capture that, your writing will already have soul.
The words struck Rose deeply. She paused and reflected on what Kana had said. Rose had always believed that writing was about structure, about finding the perfect balance between form and content. But now, listening to Kana, Rose started to wonder if she had been missing something more essential all along.
She couldn't help but repeat the question in her mind:
What am I really feeling right now?
As she reflected on it, Rose thought back on her previous writing. She compared her own style with that of Mrs. Emily's, her former writing teacher, and realized the stark difference. Mrs. Emily's words echoed in her mind like a constant reminder of her struggles.
RecklessSoul06:
> Honestly, I always thought writing was just about getting the structure right, making sure every sentence fit perfectly. But now that you've said that, I'm starting to wonder if I've been missing something bigger—like, maybe it's not about perfection, but about pouring myself into it. Did I completely misunderstand what writing really is?
As Rose said these words, she felt a growing awareness of just how much she had been focused on form over substance. It wasn't about crafting the 'perfect' sentence; it was about revealing herself in her writing.
Then, Kana responded with an unexpected vulnerability, and Rose couldn't help but listen more closely.
Lonelygirl4556:
> I'll be honest... I don't really know how to write stories. I've only ever written poems, and those are usually short and emotional and kind of messy. But I think what they have in common with stories is that they come from the same place—something real inside you that wants to be heard. So maybe... it's not about structure or rules at first. Maybe it's just about telling the truth in a way only you can.
Her words hung in the air, and Rose found herself nodding silently, absorbing the raw truth of what Kana had said. The idea that writing came from a place of truth, from deep within, was something Rose had never considered before. It wasn't about following rules—it was about expressing something real.
Rose paused for a moment, letting Kana's advice sink in before she responded.
RecklessSoul06:
> I never thought about it like that before. I've always been obsessed with getting everything perfect—following the rules, fitting into the 'right' structure. But maybe that's why my stories always felt so empty, like I was just going through the motions. You're right, it's not about perfection, is it? It's about finding what matters and letting that guide you.
She hesitated for a moment before responding.
RecklessSoul06:
> I think you just gave me a whole new way to think about writing. I feel like I need to start over... like I've been trying to write stories for the wrong reasons. Thank you. I think... I think this is the first time I've felt excited to write in a long while.
Kana's voice softened as she heard Rose's words of appreciation. She felt a sense of pride, knowing that she had helped someone else see writing in a different light. Then, she responded with a gentle piece of advice.
Lonelygirl4556:
> Don't rush to impress. Write like you're whispering a secret to someone who really wants to hear it. Let your characters say what you've been too afraid to say out loud. That's where writing becomes more than just good—it becomes personal. And when something is personal, that's when it matters.
Rose couldn't help but smile as she read the message. There was a warmth in Kana's words, a sincerity that made Rose feel understood. She looked at her phone and responded, feeling a sense of gratitude for this conversation that had sparked something new within her.
RecklessSoul06:
> Well, you say 'don't rush,' but I have a month to improve so I can keep writing short stories for the school paper.
Kana couldn't help but chuckle at that. She hadn't known about the school paper deadline, but the fact that Rose was under time pressure made her feel a little more at ease—knowing that Rose wasn't just writing for herself, but for something important to her.
Lonelygirl4556:
> For real? I'm sorry, I didn't know about that detail.
Rose smiled softly at the message before responding.
RecklessSoul06:
> It's fine. (paused) Thank you. For tutoring me today.
Kana smiled to herself, feeling happy to have been of help.
Lonelygirl4556:
> No problem. Always happy to help. (paused) Same time tomorrow?
Rose, now feeling more at ease, didn't hesitate to respond.
RecklessSoul06:
> Yeah. Same time tomorrow.