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Story Notes:


A catfish is someone who pretends to be someone they're not using Facebook or other social media to create false identities, particularly to pursue deceptive online romances.

Author's Chapter Notes:

Catfish are a popular fish to catch for a number of reasons. Catfish are plentiful and can be found in just about any water conditions. Also, catfish can grow fairly large.

 “...there's some good fish back there.” — MJ

It was supposed to be a record breaking snowstorm, one that would literally bring the city to a standing halt. At least that was the so-called story from the forecasters. The predictions insisted that the snow would pick up starting around noon, and as far as Jasmine was concerned, it was not worth the risk to drive thirty minutes through winter rush hour just to get sent home early.

It was a sick day, or at least that’s what she called it. While she was by no means ill, her mind needed the reboot after several long weeks polishing the latest assignment at her design firm. It was a well-deserved break from the nine-to-five even if there was some part of her that felt guilty for leaving her co-workers stranded in the heart of the city with the looming fear that the roads would be slick with ice and sleet by the time they left. Oh well, she thought to herself, better them than me. After all, she had done them the favor of picking up most of their slack while cleaning up many of the blunders that were overlooked due to negligence. This project required their utmost attention due to the client, but as usual, most of the designers took to the task like a monkey with a wrench.

So this was needed. An evening off curled up on her sofa with a warm cup of hot chocolate on one side and her beaten down laptop on the other. That laptop had got her through some rough times. Nights alone in bed with only the warmth of the light filling her bedroom. That laptop was her home, her sanctuary, and most of all the place where her heart lied – with him. A smile touched her lips as she scrolled down to read the last bits of the email received by a man known simply as Damien.

They had met on the popular dating site through a connection of similar interests. The site had rated them as being extremely compatible, and so curiosity blossomed into months of long emails and instant messaging. It was the easiest way to meeting someone after years of failed attempts through bars and arranged blind dates through friends. While they were not exactly dating, the emails and conversations shared by them both were intoxicating. There was something about him that grabbed her with his writing. The way he spoke of his previous affairs, the bits and pieces of his life he was willing to share, and the enticing way he was able to weave words into art when in regards to her. It wasn't supposed to go as far as it did. It was really just a social experiement to test the waters. Now here she sat, engrossed by the text thta glowed across her screen. The words she had been waiting to read since her heart opened up to this man.

He was coming to her city.

That was the words shared in his latest letter. Those words alone made her heart rush with excitement and toes wiggle in a mini-couch stomping celebration. She had been imaginging this moment for quite some time. The nights spent fantasizing about their first hello, first chat, and the usual naughty imagery that followed afterward. In years to come they would become one of the many success stories seen on the dating site. Try it, you can't go wrong, was her sales pitch while attached to her lover's arm. All she had to go off of was the few pictures sent of him. Tall, extremely packed, and fair in complexion. He was a mocha delight and easy on the eyes, a slender yet built physique as seen in many of the pictures he's sent her.

Her desktop wallpaper was a shot of him taken on his camera phone, her mobile background a picture sent by him throug text. It almost seemed too good to be true that this mocha delight found her to be worth his time. And yet for the last few months, their friendship had budded into conversations that sent her imagination spinning, each letter was always insightful filled with whimsical thoughts, dreams, and beliefs. Their intimate conversations touched often in areas she never imagined sharing to anyone, and out of all places, it was the internet where she spilled them. To this man.  He found her charming and beautiful. Such a simple word that held so much meaning to her when said by him. What was perhaps the strangest of all was the fact that not once had they ever conversated over the phone.

'I'm still trying to get a feel for you' was the reason behind it. It made sense, she thought. Or maybe it didn't. He wanted to tread lightly as anyone would. Or maybe he simply preferred written contact. It mattered little to her. It made things more traditional, like a pen pal yet through the use of technology. Their conversations alone made it easy for her to forgive the fact that there was no voice to go with poet of words and mystery.

I really can’t wait to meet you, Jasmine. If you have the time, I’d love to meet you for dinner.

Jasmine bit down on her lower lip as she attempted to conceal a squeal. Relax, she thought. I need to come up with an appropriate answer that doesn’t make me sound like a giddy school girl. Despite the her attempt to calm her nerves and focus, the words to write back in response simply weren't coming. Frozen in a perpetual state of fear, Jasmine frowned as she glared at the empty open draft of the response portion of her email account. What to write? What to say? A simple yes seemed too plain and nonchalant, yet a long winded response appeared depserate. She had dreamed of this moment and now that it came the simple act of giving a response was harder than she ever imagined, or rather she was making it more complicated than it seemed. The rules of dating were never her strongest point and it showed.

 “And today in the news, Michael Jackson pandemonium! Fans are simply ecstatic for the King of Pop who will be paying a visit to the city in the next few days.”

There were few things that could draw her attention away and a name like the King of Pop was one of them. While not as avid as a fan as most, he was a recognizable name that few ignored. Curious of the story, her eyes wandered over towards the television to watch the short segment featuring the mentioned musician.

“That’s right, Michael Jackson will be here this week! Rumors leaked through sources say the King of Pop is planning to work on a new album here. Sources also say that there will be a star line up of featured artists. The Megastar has been tight lip about his music and what we can expect from him!”

A brow raised as she watched the quick video played during the short segment of the musician skittering through an army of paparazi and fans with the help of his bodyguards. After flashing a peace sign, the superstar quicky ducked into the van and was sped away. His life looked like a rollercoaster, she thought to herself as the station cut to commercials. Constantly under the limelight and never without a moment to breathe. Interest lost, her eyes returned back to the monitor as she continued to fiercely write out her response. To her dismay, another interruption came in the form of her ringtone.


“Girl, you think you can just hide at home? I knew you’d find some excuse to stay home.”

A groan. No greeting at all and yet she knew immediately who it was. “Hey Denice.”

“Hey to you, too. Are you coming to the party this Friday? The club is going to be hype, I’m telling you.”

“We’ll see. You know how I feel about clubs.” said Jasmine with a hint of disdain.

“Yeah, and that’s why you’re single now.” replied Denice with a bit of attitude.

Jasmine snorted. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“It IS. You’re twenty-nine, girl. Twenty. Nine.”


"—And? Do I have to remind you what we said some years ago? That if you—"

“—Didn’t find a man by thirty we would just marry each other.” She laughed. The pact made as teenagers was said in jest at the time, but sometimes she wondered if she would really go through with it. “Girl, we’ll see. I never know what to do anyway.” She murmured.

"Just come. Me and my girls are going and you can come with us. You always shy."

Jasmine shrugged, an act done consciously despite the fact that nobody could see it. “Can’t be helped.” 

"Well it can if you just live. Anyway, I gotta go. CALL ME if you’re going, okay? Stop spending all day on the internet. You know creepy people stalk the internet."

"Yeah, yeah I heard you. BYE, Denice."

“—And you can’t be too careful with predators.”

“BYE Denice.”

“I’m just trying to help YOU out, girl!” exclaimed Denice.


With that she ended the call before another word could be uttered. Quiet, at last. With a sigh of relief, she turned to look at the television that was now blaring about the snowstorm yet again.

“This storm is coming in, folks. Be sure you bundle up nice and tight!” exclaimed the metrologist as he gestured to the animated storms on the screen.

That sounds good right about now, she thought. Nice and tight, in his arms. The perfect setup. A smile touched her lips as her imagination ran away. A reoccuring habit whenever she felt like drifting into space. If there was one thing she was good for it was creating a vivid scene through the use of imagery and thinking. While a blessing in most forms, it was often her worst trait given how easily she could paint a situation to be more elaborate than it really was. It couldn't be helped, her daydreams were often her only escape.

A notification suddenly popped up on her taskbar with a username she knew all too well. Without skipping a beat, she immediately brought it up and rushed to reply. After all, they had made the names together on silly whim some weeks back as a tribute to a favorite novel they both mutually loved.

PterPn251: Hello Wendy lady. :-)
Wendylady2: Hello Peter. ((: I got your email! I am so happy!
PterPn251: haha, I thought you might be. So is that a yes?
Wendylady2: of course!! I know of some places we can meet, too.

It was going to be a long day of back and forth, a perfect way to spend her time home.  

You make me feel like I'm more than just a person. I can't wait to see you, Damien. This is my chance...


Chapter End Notes:

Please let me know what you think. (: Worth continuing? Y/N? I'm trying to decide of a year to place this. Maybe in a time when he doesn't die. Perhaps somewhere in 2007. Not sure. Will think on it!

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