[Book 1]
Your friend demands that you be the script writer for the supposed love story between her and Oikawa Tooru.
Or in which you're forced to shove two people together, painstakingly describing their romance arc, as you slowly fall for the volle...
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London was a very... mixed city. Throughout your time in Lewisham, infamous for being a rather rough area, you met a wide variety of people, and had a number of curious experiences.
But at the end of the day, London was a place of business, constantly moving; it was honestly exhausting. The trains were always full, a pickpocket always nearby, a homeless person sitting on the curb, there was something at every corner.
It wasn't that you didn't like it, it was just that... it was so, so, so tiring. You vaguely wondered what it was like in San Juan, where your father was, and where Oikawa was.
Well, on that note, Oikawa seemed to have become a proper celebrity, as a Japanese man on an Argentinian volleyball team. He'd sparked a lot of discussion in the sports scene, and had evolved into quite the icon.
(Not that you actively tried to find out things about him. That would be creepy and stupid. He was just an ex-boyfriend who was unnervingly still somewhat on your mind.)
These thoughts occupied your mind, as you sat at the desk of your office, absentmindedly looking through some new manuscript that had been delivered. You frowned, as you caught sight of one particular section, and stood up, with the paper, and walked outside, to see your coworker.
"Harriet," you called out, "can you get, umm... what's her name again?"
"You mean Elsie Howard? The author we're editing for?" Harriet questioned, a slight smile on her face.
"Yes," you sighed exasperatedly, "that bloody author. Tell her that I need her to confirm something, and that I need her to call me about something."
"Alright, alright," she chuckled, "but aren't you just going through the first draft right now? Why don't you call her?"
"She doesn't pick up the phone unless it's her landline, and for some damn reason she never gave me her landline," you responded, with a scowl.
"She's certainly quite the character," Harriet agreed, before picking up the device on her desk, and beginning to dial.
"Oh! (Y/n), there you are!" you instantly recognised the voice, due to his strong Yorkshire accent, that belonged to another secondary editor, Ben. "I needed to ask something. She mentions something about Beethoven here, and that he was a composer from the romantic era. Is that right?"
"Umm... give me a second, I'll fact check it," you answered, running a hand through your hair in frustration; Harriet then waved you over, signalling that Elsie was on the line, so you rushed over. "Hello, Miss Howard?" you asked politely, leaning over the table to press the phone to your ear.
"What is it, (Y/n)?" Elsie questioned, her loud tone making you wince slightly.
"In chapter 14, the one which we're editing right now," you explained, running your hand down the finger of the page you were holding, "you mention a Spanish character, from Spain, and his name. Thing is, the pronunciation of his name could vary, since you didn't specify whether he was from Catalonia or not. They have a specific dialect there."
