J A Y
When Jay got tired, he moved to his bed, bringing his paper with him. He continued to write. Jay had always liked poetry; he'd taught it to himself when he was eight. He smirked, remembering how bad his older poems had been. Hearing Reya recite the poem he had written after he'd lost his true love had brought back... memories. Jay forced himself not to ask himself the question he'd had for years; how did that poem get into the world? How did it get so popular?
E L I Z A B E T H
"I'm well past chapter thirty!" She announced. "I'm quite a fast reader when I'm given such a good book." Elizabeth closed the book and lay down in her bed. "Are you sure you don't fancy Jay?" She asked, smirking.

