Emica Kana is 18 years old. She has always loved writing stories., They were her escape from reality. She always wished that a man would come and save her like they always do in the stories.
Well, she got her wish.
Emica entered a small writing school that was near a river. Her friend had joined her. But, the teacher had an odd vibe around him. Emica became a little scared of him. She especially became scared when the teacher started to pay more attention to her. One day, when she runs from him, she falls into a world of adventure, risk, and abnormalities. 
But, her teacher is what scares her more than this new world. What secrets and schemes did he use to get her here?

Gun-Ho was having a beer with Jae-Sik at the security office in his company. It was all dark outside.
"You used to be very active in the literature club when we were in high school, and if I remember correctly, you also participated in making our school newspapers."
"Yeah, I did. After graduating from high school, I went to college in Seoul and majored in creative writing. It was not one of the top universities, but I had a good life at that time because I could do what I enjoy doing."
"That's right. I think I heard that you studied creative writing."
"I even won the annual spring literature contest after graduating from college, which was held by a newspaper company in a province. At that time I felt like I could rule the world. I wanted to get a job in a newspaper company, but I found a job at a publishing company instead."
"So you got a job where you can use what you learned in college and that was also what you liked to do with your life."
"As you know, a publisher is different from a factory like here. It was a small publisher with only three or four employees and it wasn't doing very well."
"Hmm."
"However, that publisher was publishing a few bestseller books at that time, so they could pay me even though it was not much. I met my ex-wife there too."
Jae-Sik's voice started shaking when he talked about his wife.
"Have some more beer."

"Sure."
Jae-Sik sipped his can of beer before he continued to talk.
"Did your wife work at the same publisher?"
"My wife was a poet. In order to make our livings, we both worked at the publisher as a freelancer doing proofreading and editing."
"Hmm."
"So we hit it off when we met. I was a chief editor at the publisher at that time. Unfortunately, the company could no longer find a good book that would generate enough revenue. Any subsequent books we published were sold less than 500 books at a maximum."
"Does it cost a substantial amount of money to publish a book?"
"Our company usually published foreign books. So it cost more than 10 million won to do the translation, editing, design and printing work."
"Wow, it does cost a lot."
"That company eventually had to close its business. I couldn't find a job in the field afterward because the publishing industry wasn't doing well at that time. So I made a living by doing editing. However, I don't know what happened to me; I guess I had to stay in the field doing editing even though I wasn't making much. But, instead, I opened a deep-fried chicken restaurant with a loan."
"Hmm."
"I put about 100 million won in that restaurant business including its premium. However, the restaurant strangely suffered from the beginning. Moreover, my wife became testy because of the customers who were rude and loud, and sometimes they harassed my wife, those low-lives."

"Hmm."
"She would have been able to take some stress that arose from the business if we were making good money. However, the business was suffering, and we were pressured by the creditors to repay the loan, on top of those abusive customers. My wife couldn't take it anymore. You know people who write like a poem, they are more sensitive than average people."
"Did your wife invest her money in the restaurant too?"
"She did. She took out the money from her credit cards here and there and invested 20 million won in the business. I also used my credit cards in addition to loan from a bank and put about 40 million won in the business."
"So, you started the business with your own cash of 30 million won."
"I had a severance pay of 5 million won that I received from the publishing company's president. He literally cried when he gave it to me. And I borrowed 10 million won from my mother. I used those 15 million won in addition to my own cash—another 15 million won."
"The debt was too high compared to your own investment fund."
"The debt grew like a snowball and we were behind our rent. It was that time when my wife eventually suffered a miscarriage of a baby; she asked me to divorce her."
"Whew. I had similar life experiences. You had a harsh time."
"I haven't heard from my wife for a while. She must still be suffering financially because of her credit card debt. She is probably having a hard life doing editing work."
"Hmm."
"When I eventually closed the deep-fried chicken restaurant, I was left with a debt of over 50 million won. I suffered for quite a while by the creditors before I became a person with a bad credit score."
"Why didn't you apply for rehabilitation?"
"I did. With rehabilitation program, I was supposed to pay off debts according to a payment plan provided by the court. I was paying a certain amount of money to the court every month for several months until the accident happened."
"An accident?"
"I was doing the editing work, but when I couldn't get enough work to make a living, I got a job in a delivery company. I think I worked there for about half a year until the accident. I was delivering a package and I had to make a quick delivery, so I made a U-turn where I was not supposed to do and then I hit a car that was coming from the opposite direction. I crossed the yellow line to make a U-turn. I guess something happened to me that day to cloud my judgment."
"Hmm."
"I am not good at physical work since I have always done office work like writing and editing. Moreover, I had a bad credit score. So it was really hard to find a job. I saw Jong-Suk working with machines and doing welding. He looks great. I know I can't do that kind of work."
"So, you have 50 million won debt in total?"
"I have been paying for the debt until now. I think I have 30 million won left by now. Oh, I talked with the general affairs manager the other day about it. He said I would get paid 1.6 million won per month, and I can take the amount of basic living expenses out of it before it is seized. I think I can save some money then."
"Saving money?"
"Yeah. My rent is paid by the company, and I can have my meals at the company. So, I think I can pay off the debt after ten years working here."

"Right. The biggest expense that the people who don't make enough money is the cost of the rent. The people who don't have money have to pay for rent, and the people who have money receive that rent from them. That's the current economic system we are living in. Consequently, the gap between the rich and poor is getting bigger. Ten years are too long for you."
"Well, it is still hope. It's a good thing that the debt is shrinking instead of growing. There is one thing that bothers me a lot though. I collected some funds from our friends from high school to make an alumni directory book. I couldn't make it happen even though I really was going to make it."
"People don't make those types of directory book nowadays, do they? Many people don't want to expose their real address."
"I know. So I was going to enter their e-mail address instead of physical addresses with phone numbers. I started collecting the necessary information and writing some stuff already like the history and path that our school took so far and news from our friends, etc. I still have the writings with me. It will cost 2-3 million won to complete it but I used that money to pay my rent because I was about to be evicted. I became an animal to our friends."
Jae-Sik eventually burst into tears.

This is the story of a poor young man whose poverty even shreds apart their family willing to climb his way through society and into the top. A very realistic novel that moves away from fantasy and sci-fi and focuses solely on the issues of society and life.

Hi everyone... I'm Nim,the author. First things first, I would love to thank you'll for stopping by. I am a rookie in this writing world. Sorry if you're getting bored but I thought a little self introduction would be good. 
This is my first and foremost writing gig. So please.. please support me and my work. This is actually the best platform for new cookie like me to show my work. I was encouraged by my friends and teachers to write. They were impressed by my essays which I used to write during my school days. They used to tell me that my plots and themes were creative and imaginative but now all that matters is your viewpoints and opinions. My grammar is weak so please bear with it. I don't know why but as I'm writing this I'm feeling very nervous.... I would happily accept any type of reviews and feedback..
Now moving on to the novel,
This novel is not like the sterotypical one. Unlike other novels there are no one night stand,r*p*,ship wreckage,ex and ofcourse the famous stepmother and step siblings. This is mainly about the growth of the charecters both individually and together. There is a lot of passion and affection involved here. There's a hint of spiciness with lots of faceslapping moments and.... heat ;-) ;-).. Well no story is complete without some bitches and we have a few of them here accompanied by a bunch of mad dogs... 
I'll be using a lot of Chinese references even though I'm not a Chinese because why not you know going with the flow. So, please don't get offended. Many things here are going to be imaginative.
I hope this novel can bring some positivity and joy in your lives and ease your tensions. I'll try to update it as much as possible... but I can't guarantee anything because I'm still a university student.
Aaahh I thought I will eventually leave this stupid thoughts of mine till here but the word limit is too much so I'll introduce you'll to the charecters-:

1. Irene Tan - She's our 23 year old female lead. A breathtakingly beautiful intelligent woman with a high IQ of 190 is the heiress of the Tan Corporation a multimillion dollar company related to fashion. She also owns various high class stores and started her own brand named BLISS... She's a mystery as no one has ever seen her.. Though highly pampered and loved by her family, she's very down-to-earth. She enjoys living a normal life. She can be alluring, bewitching, gentle, playful, foxy, cold and terrifying depends on which situation she's dealing with.

2. Zhao Neil - The devilishly handsome CEO of the Zhao Conglomerate,the richest and the most powerful corporation of the country. A genius in technology. He is 25. Those who mess with him will suffer his demonic wrath. Though he keeps to himself, he's a very sensitive and caring being. Will kill anyone who will touch the people whom he love. And yes.... he might be a beast in you know where... ;-)...

I hope this little insight will keep you'll intrigued. Let's enjoy this novel together.. Thanks again readers...
Love XOXO
Nim.

She is a bewitching beauty who lures everyone in a mysterious way. A kind soul who brings joy everywhere she goes. But BEWARE..... If you dare mess with her, she will show you her cold and foxy side.

He is the most successful and powerful CEO of the country. Though young, he is rough and strong who stays to himself. He is devilishly handsome but has a sensitive and caring heart.

The cute little bun is loved by both of them. He is their strength as well as weakness, a weakness that makes them more stronger.

What will happen next? A strong woman meets a powerful man. A cute kid. Faceslapping scenes. Power Couple. 
Let's embark on a journey together to see what holds in the future for them.


****

I'm a new cookie in writing world so please support me. I would happily accept reviews and feedback.Thank You. And this story I've posted in other novel and comic reading writing app too( just one app).. So please don't get mistaken because I'm that same person. The entire story is my own point of view.

Warning - There are some violent scenes(like sex, fights and killing) and a lot of mature dialogues. Content suitable for 17+ readers only.

The cover is not mine. There might be some grammar mistakes so please cope up with me. Please give this novel one chance. I'm sure you'll will like it. Thank You.

After I visited Arina, she started going to school again. That's a good thing because she still have a lot to catch up on.
Before our Professor in Creative Writing left, I received a text from Arina to meet her in the garden saying she has something to tell me. It must be important.
I went to the garden and  I saw her at sitting on the bench looking so gloomy.
"Arina, what's the matter?" I asked.
She looked up to me with tears welling up in her eyes.
"Ellie." She broke into tears when I hugged her.
I gently brush my hand on her hair to comfort her. She's really odd these past few days. She's being moody and overreacts on the simplest things. She also gained some weight.
Last night I told her that she gained some baby fats and she got mad at me. Very unusual of her.
"What's wrong?" I asked again.
"Ellie, I'm pregnant."
The last two words she said hit me like an asteroid hit a planet and it broke into pieces. It deafened me like a loud thunder.
"What? Why?" I asked in confusion. She doesn't have any boyfriend and since we were in high school, she's been admiring Josh.
Josh.
"Was it Josh's?" I asked absentmindedly.
"No, no. I was..."
I waited for her to continue. Her hands are getting cold and trembling. She looked at nothing particular but her eyes are filled with so much fear.
"I can wait if you are still not ready to talk--" she cut me off.
"I was raped, Ellie."
It feels like my physical body and consciousness got separated.
--
I became more careful around her because of her condition. After she told me that, I always get a call from her every night. She's always crying, telling me she can't bear it anymore and she wants to end it. I always answer that it is okay and it will be alright.
I asked her about the details even though I know it will be hard for her. She doesn't want to report it to the police because she said she can't trust them.
Like adding fuel to the fire, it became the hardest for her is when her parents didn't believe her and disowned her. She only got a week to stay in her dormitory and she have nowhere to go. I can't have my parents' support over this matter because they didn't like Arina the moment they knew what happened to her. They even blamed her for being careless.
Drat it. Society really sucks. Why do they always blame the victim making them feel worst? I hate it.

The language learning course which tested the ability of the students' minds to read, and comprehend a certain text, acknowledged the variety of literary pieces across the world, expressed one's sentiments, and viewpoints through creative writing, and gave up a speech to the public with a required self-confidence and charisma had conquered the class of Yeats.

"English Time!" a classmate exclaimed.

"Ugh. Why on earth..." Noah said, lying her head onto the armrest.

The teacher had arrived with her male student who assisted her to carry on her stationery materials and left afterwards. 

She expressed her warmest greeting to the class, "Good morning, everyone."

"Gooood Morningggg, Ma'am Rhea," the entire students responded in dullness, deliberately prolonging the words.

"Again, good morning, Yeats."

"Good Morning, Ma'am Rhea! We are happy to see you today!"

The teacher nodded, and commanded them, "Okay, you may now take your seats."

"So Yeats, in this period, we would be having an activity, and I'm sure you would definitely love to hate this one."

The students plastered a counterfeit grin on their faces as they listened to their teacher's introduction. It looked as if their incoming task would be an "easy yet a lazy job" for them.

"You will be composing an original poetry! Isn't beautiful? A form of art of regurgitating all your personal experiences, feelings, aspirations, and showing off your ideals and visions of the world around us by using a piece of paper and a pen. What lies ahead of our future? Who shall be the one to pass this on for the next generation. It's only you, the young ones. As our beloved national hero, Dr. Jose Rizal quoted, 'The youth is the hope of our nation'," Ma'am Rhea Azuela dramatically spoke, and her fists were firmly closed.

Everyone groaned with the exemption of Ma'am Rhea whose energy was trying hard to somehow radiate the entire classroom.

"Hmm... Okay, you only have two options: To create or not to create. My role as a teacher is simply taking down of your grades and morals in your report card. If you want a failing grade, why not? I'll give it to you. Other than that, what does youth always say? You only live once, eh? So, I won't stop you from not submitting your requirement," Ma'am Rhea shrugged.

"Anyways, for those who wished to conform to the task, listen up. Before you start writing, I would love to give a bit of a background about our today's lesson. I'm sure most of you familiar with them. We've known different lyrical poems, epic poems and etcetera. Now, I'll ask you. What is haiku? Anyone?"

"Just give me a gist of it."

Students were staring at each other's eyes, and no one dared to speak. Few were looking at the white board. Most were avoiding an eye contact from their instructor. Some of them were gaping at the outside of the room. Ma'am Rhea whined and continued.

"Guys, you have to talk. Remember, this is an English class. You have to hone your communication skills. How are you going supposed to learn if you don't utilize your mouths? Ha? Come on. No answers are wrong in language. It's more on thoughts and ideas that we should express. You should be engaging more on interaction. And pretty please, let's help each other out. Don't leave me hanging guys, Okay?"

"Now, any thoughts from this group?" she asked, looking at the first row. Ma'am Rhea was about to choose her lucky victim when one of her students raised her right hand, "Ma'am."

"Yes, Miss? What do you think? What is haiku?"

"May I go to the comfort room?" the wench replied.

Some of the senior high students were retaining their soon-to-be-bursted laughter. Ma'am Rhea sighed, and said, "Yes, you may."

The young lass stood up straight, and said, "But, If I am not mistaken, haiku refers to a five-seven-five syllable count in a one three-phrase stanza. It is also originated in Japan."

"Again, thank you for your permission, Ma'am."

The schoolgirl went to the school comfort room, leaving the entire class in amusement. Ma'am Rhea snapped her fingers to get back her little ones' focus.

"That's my girl! She got it right. Finally, someone saved you from danger, eh?" the teacher cunningly grinned, and the student were then relieved. 

"And since this is a surprise activity, you need not to compose a haiku. Still, it is included in your quarterly exams. Instead, I challenge you to write a poem. Freestyle. Whether you want to have your piece that consists of a rhyme, or a regular meter. It's up to you. Make sure it has three stanzas. Do you understand me, Yeats?"

Dassah lifted up her hand up, and called, "Ma'am."

"Yes, Miss Dassah?"

"What would the topic be about?" the student asked.

"Hmm... Good question," Ma'am Rhea nodded, and began considering a great theme for her class's written poetry. Suddenly, a brilliant idea popped up. She smiled and responded to her student.

"It should be based on your personal experience. For example, your bonding with your family and friends. Maybe you want to write about your life as a student, and whatsoever. The sky's the limit."

"So, any questions?"

The class replied, "None."

"Okay. You may now start. And please let me check your composition before the bell rings whether it is done or not. I'll give a plus point and a secret award for those who could create a finished piece," Ma'am Rhea announced, and sat down on her chair to relax her voluptuous legs.

"Ma'am, what is the reward?" one man asked.

"It won't be confidential anymore, if I'll tell you, mister," she said.

The students proceeded writing on their mandatory art work. Creative juices were flooding up inside of their right brains. Tearing papers were echoing everywhere in the section. Loud mental groans from every school teens dominated in the class. Frustration mixed with determination to make a possible masterpiece were obviously transparent on their hopeless faces. Dassah who eventually ended her write-up stood up from her armchair, and submitted it to her English teacher. 

Ma'am Rhea was impressed, and took her ample time to read her three-stanza poem. As she perused Dassah's work, she smiled in delight.

"Miss Quinn."

"Yes, Ma'am?"

"I have a dumb question," the instructor said. She glanced at her unknowing student in mischief, and continued her talk.

" Are you in love?"

"NO WAY, MA'AM," Dassah yelled at her teacher. Her classmates instantly shifted their gaze at the two. She became flustered, and softly spoke, "Umm... Sorry, ma'am. I was just shocked. But, no, I am not, ma'am."

"And what makes you think that I'm uh..."

Ma'am Rhea replied, still smiling, "In love?"

Dassah slowly nodded in embarrassment,"Uh-huh."

"It's just my assumption. It seems the message of your poem conveys about a clichè romance like this love at first sight kind of scene. Ah. Reminds me of my first young love,"  Ma'am Rhea Azuela said, feeling the nostalgia of her past teen era.

"And, what's even more interesting is that I instructed you to have a poem that talks about your life encounters." Dassah's teacher continued.

"Then, I thought I might be wrong, so which is why I asked you."

Dassah again nodded as an abiding servant, and the English teacher spoke again herself, "So, mind if I ask you the story behind this piece of yours?"

"Um... Sure, Ma'am. But, it already says it all," Dassah said.

"It's basically this. I met a guy at a convenience store, and I did not forsee anything that we would see each other for the second time around. And for me, I was happy it happened for the both of us."

Ma'am Rhea could no longer hide her squeals, and let it out without any reservation.

"Oh, ignore my giggles. The story was too cute. But hey, Miss Quinn. This is your prize," she commented, and gestured her to move closer. Dassah came near to her instructor in obedience.

"You'll present it to the other class."

"Ma'am?!" Dassah exclaimed in terror.

"Shh... Don't tell anyone," she warned the young lady.

"But, but..."

Ma'am Rhea smiled, and said, "You may go back to your seat, Miss Quinn."

Dassah heaved a sigh of defeat, and move herself back to her armchair.  Floating her countless regrets of submitting her poem, the young lady had enough of the trap, and let the situation sail by itself.

Dassah Quinn had left no choice but to stay with a perfect stranger. Yearning for someone who would help them get out of trouble and leave the olden storage room is her gleam of hope. 

In the course of incarceration, Dassah unexpectedly entailed herself in a scheme of discerning the nondescript man, One One.

I didn't want to write this. I really didn't. I'm delighted that my loyal readers gave this book a chance anyway even though it's different from what other novels are like out there. But, I am going to cancel this novel or update slowly. I tried very hard to persist by writing more chapters. But I can't. I lost my direction and creative voice.

It's NOT the reader's fault. It's my own. I love and appreciate all the feedback and comments given. Readers are allowed to offer opinions and critiques. I praise those who do. It's very insightful and thoughtful. 

The reason why I chose to give up is for two reasons. I lost my direction, meaning that it's not coming out the way I initially wanted it. The reason why is because I felt that since my story is different, I took a risk, which all authors do. We take risks. 

But unfortunately, I changed and re-wrote this story twice because I tried to make it good. But I didn't follow my initial instinct because I was afraid of what people may think, which is my fault for overthinking in the first place. 

Now, for the second reason. I am comparing this book to my first one. Now, it's challenging to grasp attention as a novice writer with no experience. But my first book, "Daughters of the Elite," FAILED the first time. It flopped. Badly. I went in and re-wrote it. 

NOW, it has a million views, hundreds of comments, and dozens of reviews. I never thought it would reach that audience since it's not contracted. But it did, and I'm happy and thrilled! 

The second time I wrote it, I received collections and votes quickly. I struggled at first, but my audience multiplied, once the word spread. My synopsis grabbed people, and I didn't enter any competitions because I didn't like the fact that people had to pay spirit stones. UGH. The amount of money I spent on this app because of 1000+ chapter novels. 

I hated the spirit stone system, so when I began writing, I wanted my stories to be good and free, but the issues are none of my works are promoted for that reason. 

I didn't gain a cent writing DOTE, but it's OKAY. I write these books for fun, but in the end, I know when to stop if it's not doing well. This book is not doing well at all. Which, again, I am not hurt by it that much, because I have book three that keeps me going. 

Before publishing this book, I received many requests and comments about how people were excited about book two, and I feel like I failed you guys. It's mysterious for sure, with some intrigue. But it's not what people want. 

Book 3, however, is anticipated. Now, I already began writing the book, and there are no struggles with it so far in terms of plot writing. *Hopefully* but I should drop this one. I persisted with DOTE; I failed on this one. I'm sorry. 

This book is about love that is thought to be lost but regained over time. 

NOW! I might complete this novel!!! However, updates will be unpredictable. It could be once every few days, maybe once a week. I am focused on book three. 

I really do like writing this book. But again, not many people like the idea of this one, of course, as you readers being the wonderful exception. 

I will be deleting this chapter in 24 hours so I can proceed with new chapters. But again will be mainly working on book three:

...

BOOK THREE:

"A SONG FOR A SUMMER'S NIGHT" 
 
[Release will be in one or two weeks]
Tags: Romance; Arranged Marriage; Forbidden Romance

Song Luli is a sharp-tongued, bold, and reserved young woman who unexpectedly becomes the new successor of her father's company—Song Entertainment—right after her older sister abruptly disinherits herself. 

Song Luli, now the heiress of a large company, soon receives word that Song Entertainment is crumbling in the business world, and to secure her position; she must marry Long Jie, a wickedly handsome heir of a conglomerate, who is bound to duty and responsibility. 

Long Jie is a handsome, ruthless, and calculative young man who destroys careers or makes them, and he is known to be frigid by rejecting every offer for a suitable match. 

But he picks Song Luli. 

On the terms of marriage, they agreed to never fall in love, to never think about the possibility as they dedicate their time towards their jobs and families. Marriage benefited both of them for the sake of power and to survive the turmoils of High Society. 

Watch as the budding romance blooms between two stubborn and cynical individuals who share more in common than they want to admit, learning more about what it means to be married, and battle the power struggles that they face, together. 

Meanwhile... 

Song Luli's cousin Su Xiang is an aspiring doctor devoted to her job and inheriting the legacy her mother built. She is the heiress of Song Pharmaceuticals, but when her older adoptive brother returns from four years of Medical school, she must confront the blooming feelings she harbours for him. 

Until next time, and hopefully, I succeed.

What happens if the person you thought you hated the most turned out to be the one who loves you ceaselessly, unconditionally, and passionately? 

Status: Completed

...

Xue Guangli was a young woman who followed her mother’s legacy; she won’t marry to get above her status. She will earn it. 

However, when a tragedy struck her home, she lost sight of the things she wanted. 

To get her life in order, she must regain the classy legacy she left behind, find the real suspect of her mother’s killer, and pave a way through the challenges thrown at her. 

But when it comes to her mother’s murder trial, Xue Guangli is forced to get help from the man she hates the most—Long Huojin. Long Huojin is an achingly handsome and devastatingly perfect successor of a large conglomerate, but the two never got along. 

Xue Guangli hated Long Huojin for most of her life—so much that when he looks at her, she can hardly breathe. 

Long Huojin, on the other hand, secretly pines for Xue Guangli patiently waiting for the day she’ll let him in. 

***Novel Completed at Chapter 70***

——

“Her eyes dropped to the hollow of his throat, to the bob of his Adam's apple. Her gaze lingered and stopped at his mouth, at the seams of his lips. It hadn't occurred to her what it would feel like to taste them.” 


Keywords: Male Lead; Female Lead; Romance; Crime Drama; Strong Female Protagonist; Respectful Male Lead; No Prolonged Misunderstandings; No Sexual Assault; No Evil Sisters; Detailed Smut; 18+ 

——
 

Other Works: 

Daughters of the Elite (4.8)
A Song For a Summer's Night 

Art cover isn't mine. Will remove when asked.

I am not that pleasant to the eye. I have these forever tiny pimples that take shelter on my face. And I think I have gotten big over the years of stress-eating. 

This guy in front of me does not think so though. 

/"I was wondering if you wanted to grab some dinner later."/ 

Or maybe he is just making fun of me and this is some kind of prank he is trying to pull off with his jock of a friends. I have seen this guy and he is the new member of the basketball team of Moordale High. I have not known him that much, but I know the basketball boys were assholes. 

This guy standing in front of me is a sophomore and it sucks that he is taller than me. He has brown curly hair, black eyes, and frickeled cheeks. And I think he is pleasant to the eyes, too pleasant. 

/"I was wondering if you wanted to grab some dinner later."/ 

Too straightforward to even be believable. I look boringly back at his eyes, which showed nervousness. He glances at something behind my back. The jockholes look like they are snickering. 

I grab the books from my lockers and look back at him.

"Trust me, you don't wanna be like them." I walk away from him and towards my first period. 

You see, the basketball players at my school hate me. They hate me for accidentally finding out their secret. I never meant to intrude but they were just not that careful. That's why they left me alone, sadly my proof was shattered by them, my phone, and now I had nothing against them. Just kidding, I backed it up on my laptop. I am not that fucking stupid. One more dirty move, and their parents will know that their precious innocent sons are actually not that innocent anymore. 

Wednesday is the best school day. Creative Writing is first period. And I love the subject. And I get to be with Atlas in the same room. 

I quickly go to my seat and write my thoughts and feelings of the day. Mr. Harrington has this idea of writing down what we are feeling and I don't know for what purpose. 

/I think I will be fine./

He has not yet arrived. I roll the paper and put it in the box of his table. 

I turn to my seat to find Atlas already sitting and writing down on his paper. He is 7 seats away from me. He is in front while I was at the back.

In no time, the students filled the room and Mr. Harrington started his lecture of the day. I listened to him properly but my mind keeps bringing me back to what happened this morning.

/"Your mom is coming here tomorrow, please clean your room."/ I hear my dad's voice. It was not my mom, coming to the house, that was bothering me. It was my dad. Sure, he changed. But everything was awkward at the house, he is always early for work and arrives so late. He does not look at me when he says something. We don't eat together. It's like we are two strangers living in the same house. Like housemates that are supposed to get along. We don't get along. He barely even talks to me. It has always been like that. I was always the one initiating the conversation when we eat together, which barely happens. I tell him about school and he would reply with words that are blank and I ask him about work and he'll say it's okay and the conversation ends.

/I think I will be fine/ I snap out of my thoughts and look back at Mr. Harrington who has started reading the rolled papers. 

"Whoever you are, remember that it gets better. Your day might have started badly, does not mean it ends badly, do something fun, something you want to do. It's a bad day, not a bad life." Mr. Harrington was good at motivation and making students feel better. I wonder why isn't the guidance councilor when he was better than Mrs. Yuan. 

"I beat off three tim..." the class is in hysterics, including me. "Now, what did I say about this stuff?..." He rambles on and on about the use of language and then continued to read the other papers, which of course, had plenty more unclean contents. 

I look back at Atlas, whose back I can only see. He is laughing along with the class, his broad shoulders bobbing in the process. 

He is good at poetry as well. He is good at everything he does. He is this perfect student, this perfect jock, this perfect son, this perfect boyfriend, but he will never be a perfect friend. 

Suddenly, I am so angry. Angry at him. Angry for what he has done. Angry that he gave up on our friendship. Angry that he blamed me for his parents separation when his parents actually had reunited and stayed a perfect family in town. Angry that he did not even reach out and try to recompense. Angry that he chose to be friends with assholes. Angry that he is unattainable. 

And I am angry at myself, for not being able to let go. For messing things up. For not being able to save my parents' marriage. Angry at my mother for leaving. Angry at my mother who has built a new family and they are probably talking and not awkward with each other. Angry at my father for cheating. Angry that he isn't proud of his faggot of a son that he could not even talk to let alone look at. I am angry that I chose him. 

I am angry at myself for being the way I am. I am angry that as I sit here, my eyes blinking back tears, looking at Atlas' back, I realize that I am jealous of him. That I have always been. And I hate it. 

"Mr. Jones, are you okay?" I look back at my 6'4 teacher who is now standing in front of me. I know all eyes are on me. They are probably looking at me weirdly, including Atlas. But I don't look at any.

I clear my throat.
"Um, yeah... I am okay sir."

I will always say I am okay.



/Even when it is obvious that I am not./

Summer is in love with Atlas. Atlas likes Summer, but no, not in that way.


boyxboy

It's pretty late now, —for everyone else, not for her—she hasn't gone to sleep yet. She has too much artistic and creative sense that she stays awake most of the nights.

She often thinks in that way of rubbish thinking, just to feel better. Actually she knows that's not true. She can't sleep because she's got an insomnia. 

When she was in high school, she used to be one of those people who tends to fall asleep in the middle of a conversation. As a grown-up, she is someone who has a hard time trying to fall asleep at night. 

It's a waste of time to try to fall sleep so she does something —something to relax or something useful — during those hours. She reads. She paints. She writes. She listens to music, often classical and slow rock .

And, tonight, she feels like reading every bad critique review online. She was pretty sure that isn't making her relax. Instead, that's making her tense and making her more and more obsessed with that, with every passing minute.

She is even reading the tabloids. Normally, only literature sites and international news sites write about her works. And now the tabloids are writing about them—a lot are criticizing ruthlessly.

They've got on her nerves, and she's started muttering her feedbacks. 

"Woah...they think it's so easy to write a bestselling book!" Why don't they write themselves then?

"What?!The love scenes are as if written by a robot?!" What is so bad about robots? Robots are the best.

"What?! Hannah Lee seems to need an actual experience to write romance?!" No. She doesn't.

They are evening telling her what she should and shouldn't do in her personal life. What do they know? it is pretty absurd to date someone in real life to include a few romance parts in her books.

"I am a genius! I can make up theories about everything...including so-called love." Everything is about technique and structure. Love is a psychological trick.

Let's take a break for a minute, her mouth is getting dry for shouting her egoistic opinions consistently. She gets up to drink a glass of water.
 
Getting back, she continues to scroll through the tabloids. Out of the blue, a news suggestion pops up. She's already read the title unconsciously before trying to close the news.
The title is bolded and the font is huge. It says;

"A Certain Male Celebrity Running Along A Beach, Totally Naked!!!"

'Uncle Vinnie, am going to school tomorrow,' Khalayi quipped at the breakfast table. Uncle Vinnie looked at her with a face that seemed to read 'it was about time young lady'. Relieved by her decision, Uncle Vinnie left the breakfast table abruptly to inform the school about the status of her education. Khalayi had attempted to stop him from fussing but he declined by stating that he might as well be done with the preparation before she could change her mind. The week had been one of tug as Uncle Vinnie tried to convince the stubborn 17-year-old to get back to high school and get done with her final year. The 1st term of her final high school year had just begun. Even though she could be considered smart, her school attendance could not be ignored.
 His greatest fear was that her wealth would get into her head at one time and she would decline her school work. Her self-drive impressed him and even though her company wasn't the best, he never had to worry about her grades and school activities. She was among the top 3 students in her school, captain of the football team, and secretary of the Art club. She had won several awards in creative writing. Her only flaw was her assertiveness that reared its head once a while. This had led the school to consider entrusting her with a position as a student leader, to tone down her assertiveness which was applied mainly against the school administration. It was a school custom that tried to curb down trouble-makers by absorbing them as student leaders. Generally, student leaders were never liked due to the fact that they had to side more with the teachers and less with the students. A sort of 'divide and rule' tactic replicated in a tiny system that shapes the workforce.
At one time she had questioned her history teacher about the foundation of the education system which seemed to replicate the colonial master's system. She brought up things like slavery and a colonized mind to question the school leadership system. According to her, absorbing trouble-makers as a student leader was similar to how the colonial masters absorbed some natives as superintendents or chief that reported to them about fellow natives. The teacher was incensed by her inquiry and description. Her opinion was cruelly shut down and branded as a form of rebellion. Another time she argued about the chronological facts of a bible story that her teacher presented, stating that the teacher's fact did not coincide with those in the bible- leaving the teacher livid. All these argumentative episodes were silently suppressed because she was quick to point out that it was an educational discussion and could not be termed as a case of indiscipline. As a result, this and other discussions never made it to Uncle Vinnie's and her grandmother's ears.
To Uncle Vinnie and her grandmother, she was a bubbly and kind girl. However, to the teachers and students, she was a tiny terror sent to torment them. Her innocent looks did not coincide with her energy and sharp tongue. Her two weeks of absence from school had relieved them and they even hoped she would not show up that year. The headmistress felt a headache coming up once she received Uncle Vinnie's call. Her hopes of a peaceful year were dashed. It is just one year, one year of facing off with the little trouble maker. The little episodes of arguments with the teachers, bullying, and incitement of students had not passed her unnoticed. She had had to change the school menu, renovate hostels for students considered of a lower cadre and change the grading system for reasons such as classism as a result of her incitement. The arguments were packaged in a manner that sounded convincing to parents and philanthropic to Uncle Vinnie. Who could believe her if she stated that Khalayi had done it out of boredom and a desire to rile the administration?
To the students, she was an unpredictable tyrant. At one time she was sweet and friendly; other times she was a bully. For her, as long as it suited her situation, you could be a friend or foe, even if the situation was something as shallow as getting a tick out of bullying someone. Her current target was Nasike, a quiet girl who got out of everyone's way and just wanted to live peacefully. That was the order of the day, before the accident and before Nastanje happened. Nastanje relegated this priority to the back of her mind in the 2 weeks that she had been trying to figure her way around all this mystery. She actually liked Khalayi, it was like reincarnated into a character she had never unleashed because her world could never accommodate it. Without the power and money to back her up, she always had to tow the line. Having parents and 5 siblings, she could not afford to add to her parents' trouble. Any form of argument no matter how logical would have been packaged as a rebellion that deserved punishment where the minimal would have been a suspension and the maximum an expulsion. But now, now she had the environment and the opportunity to unleash the wildcat within.
Khalayi's wish wasn't spectacular, just for her to live to the fullest. To live as the person, she always wanted to be, without regret. Nastanje thought it was the easiest wish someone could ever ask her to fulfill. 
'Ah, youth, youth, youth, youth, youth….'  Khalayi kept murmuring, exhilarated. A backpack was strung on her back and a suitcase dragged through the school gate, glasses covering the naughty glint at the corner of her eyes. She smiled innocently and coolly, disarming the teacher on duty and her class teacher who had been standing by the gate watching the students pour in. The relaxed teacher abruptly jumped into an alert mode seconds later after seeing the smile. That smile was never a good sign, not a good sign at all. The teacher exclaimed in his mind. 
'Let's work hard together during this final year, Sir', Khalayi quipped after greeting the class teacher. The teacher hoped it was school-work work hard and not activism-work work hard. The previous three years had not been enough to steel him through the kind of antics the student he loathed and liked at the same time pulled.

Dull, boring, routine do-gooder. 
'No, am not talking dirty with you now because am in the office and i look innocent and everyone thinks am a good person'
Reincarnated in her doppelganger's 19 year old body, 
'it is about time to be a bad girl, unapologetically evil, basely iniquitous'
She smiled innocently, her eyes holding an evil glint.

The characters might irk you. They have no apologies for who they are...

Staying with Eva certainly wasn't boring. On the first night they were at her house she insisted they were going to burn through as many Disney movies as possible so Hazel would know who all they bothered standing in line to take pictures with. 
She hadn't realized her lack of knowledge had been so apparent. But Eva wasn't unkind about it. It seemed more like she wanted to share something fun that she liked than she thought Hazel was crazy for not knowing before. 
Most of the movies were pretty cute. Exactly the sort of things kids tended to eat up. 
Hazel had enjoyed it too once upon a time. Her parents used to put those types of movies on for her and sometimes even take her to see them in theaters. 
She used to wish they would play movies while she was in the mental hospital. But after meeting Will and hearing all of the amazing things there were to know about the real world, the fictional one hadn't appealed to her as much anymore. 
Besides, once she got out her uncle wasn't the type to allow children's movies in his house. He didn't like the slightest bit of noise indicating she existed most of the time. That was the only reason he supplied her with minimal art supplies. 
Drawing was always an effective way to shut her up. As she went back to school and was able to check out books from its library she tried to draw the things she read about. There were even some guides on how to draw that helped her a lot as she tried to improve. 
Hazel spent the remainder of her elementary school days and most of middle school as well refining her technique. She was so absorbed by all there was to learn that she had no interest in friends so it wasn't like anybody other than her uncle would have taken her to the movies either. 
When they weren't watching movies, Eva wanted to hear more about Hazel's life. There really wasn't much to tell leaving out her juicy past. She was a pretty boring person. 
Talking about her art was a fairly safe topic. She mentioned that she had been interested in it basically her whole life so it was the obvious career choice even though people advised her against it. 
Everything had worked out in the end. She landed this comic job, which looked great on her resume. And after that she ended up married to someone who was willing and able to buy her all the art supplies she could ever want. Will had kept his promise quite well even if it was later than she had hoped. 
Getting here had been a rough road though. Her uncle didn't support her dreams and refused to pay for her to go to art school. He had barely acknowledged her when she got a scholarship by buying her a school sweatshirt. 
All of her high school teachers (except the art teacher) were against it too. They thought she was wasting her brains on a field that wouldn't pay well or offer a consistent job unless she decided to be a graphic designer. 
Hazel didn't want to spend her entire life creating lifeless things for other people. She refused to go down that road, even if it meant picking up a bunch of odd jobs to get by. 
Graphic designers didn't have any sort of creative freedom whatsoever in her mind. She needed to be unrestrained and free in her art or she felt choked. Even working with a finicky author like Eva was far superior to making logos all day. 
The nice thing was that Eva understood how she felt about taking the easy road. She could have gone to grad school to become a social worker like every other psychology major she knew because it was the 'smart choice' with that degree. Social workers, like graphic designers, were in high demand. 
But she was one to take the road less traveled by. If she went back to grad school it would be to specialize in the very specific field she wanted and nothing less. 
She had told Hazel how she ended up where she was now, in what her mother called 'a career dead end.' Yes, she was working two jobs and didn't have the most glamorous lifestyle but she made enough to do fun things every so often like their trip in Florida. 
The point was that she was doing what she wanted and didn't feel a rush to change that. Hazel could respect that. 
What she was less fond of was that Eva's interest in true crime and serial killers was because she was genuinely intrigued by criminology. Her eventual goal was to work for the FBI as a profiler. 
Wanting to catch people like her parents' killer wasn't the part she was upset by. It was how she consumed countless amounts of media about serial killers and other famous criminals and helped perpetuate sales and popularity for those things. 
It was people like her who kept the market for such grotesque things open. Those she truly despised—the people who capitalized on other people's pain by writing books picking apart the sick minds of killers—made money off of people like Eva. It was why they kept doing it. 
She had seen the book on the Bay Area Blade that had largely inspired his inclusion in that docuseries in a stack on the coffee table. It had taken all of her willpower to keep her mouth shut about it.
The series had already started airing and Hazel desperately hoped Eva wouldn't want to watch it while she was stuck here. She wasn't sure she would calmly be able to explain why she couldn't bear to watch that crap. 
Three days passed and there was no sign of the snow letting up back home so she would have to stay here a while longer. That show aired on Sundays and it was Thursday now. More than anything she wanted the airport to be cleared for travel before then.

“I’ll marry anyone who will take me!” Hazel declared loudly. “I don’t need love!”

“Get down!” Will hissed. “You don’t know what kind of people are lurking around in here! Talking like that might get you killed!”

==

Hazel Dixon thought she was putting her troubled past behind her. But when the person she thought she trusted most betrays her, she loses her head and proposes to an entire bar full of strangers. 

Enter Will Sheffield, a charming stranger who decides to take her up on her offer to save her from herself. 

He spoils her rotten without expecting anything in return and Hazel's confusion only grows. She doesn't know why he is acting this way. Or why he reminds her so much of the 'dangerous' childhood friend she thought was gone forever...

high school creative writing

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