Love is like a fairytale.

chapter one: lively hood

Before we start, I'd love to give myself a lovely introduction, my name is Ivy Bloom. I've had a lot happen in my life and it all started when I was six. First things first I grew up in Michigan. The town I lived in was very small with only a population of ninety-five thousand nine hundred ninety-nine residents. (Okay, maybe not that tiny but smaller than your average town.) Like Miami for example it's one hundred percent bigger than wherever I used to live. It was small but I liked living there. Although there was crime, the people were alright. They weren't very talkative which was awesome. and you would never see them. You could try to stalk them, but you would not be able to see them. I wouldn't even see my own neighbors they were super quiet and if you would see them no eye contact or anything. But I was fine with it. I was six I didn't care.

Let's talk about my father for a change of subject. My father was an amazing person but when my mother left, it had a huge impact on him. He started drinking a lot. He became an alcoholic; it was awful having to see him in pain like this. I understand depression could affect people like this but damn. He had a child, I learned how to cook at seven years old with no experience nor anyone to teach me. That was until my grandma noticed what was happening and finally put my dad in rehab, she took full custody of me and took care of me like if I was a child of her own. (Something my mother never did) I lived with my grandma until I was sixteen.

In all that time I became aware my father, had died in rehab (I guess alcohol was a big part in his life if he couldn't live without it.) A few years after that happened my grandmother passed away from old age. Since I was only sixteen, I had to live with my aunt Janice until I was eighteen. Living with my aunt caused me to move to New York. Living with her was great, better than any other home I've had. I had seven cousins living in one house. It isn't easy being the only girl in a whole family of sweaty teenage boys. It's like having seven older brothers, not so fun. They were nice though, since I grew up being the only child, when I was with my dad it felt nice having at least someone I could talk to. They were my age so everything was relatable except for girl stuff but they understood. (At least I think so), never really talked to them about girl stuff but it is what it is.

What wasn't so fun was whenever a guy came to talk to me, they always had to be there. Always!! I'm not talking about once or twice, I'm talking all the time. The guys either thought one of them was my boyfriend or they thought they were a gang I was in. They were wrong. I think about thirty percent of the guys that I talked to thought they were my brothers which is totally fine because they kind of were. They treated me like their sister and I was grateful to have 'older brothers' by my side. They were super proud of me when I got into the college, I have dreamed of going to NYU! (New York University) I was so proud of myself for getting in. I wanted to get into NYU for one thing and one thing only which was to study English Literature (and see the cute guys). Since I was twelve, I had grown a passion for books while living at my grandma's house since I didn't have much to do. I was just living there with nothing to do but go to school. Ever since then, I've been wanting to write. I'm very proud on how much I've grown and truly cannot give enough thanks to these guys. I couldn't ask for better brothers than them.

When I finally became an author my cousins and aunt were so proud of me (I'm pretty sure they bought the first fifty copies but it's okay). Being an author is not as easy as you may think. I already have my first five books out and I'm currently on the sixth one. I have an awful case of writer's block. It's terrible. When I was twenty, I never had this problem. I could just spill out random words into a word document, but now it seems so difficult. I guess since all these memories just keep flooding back it's distracting me from my work. I keep getting emails on when the next one is coming out. All I can do is sit there and observe the email typing back, "It's coming soon I promise." I promise my ass. I have absolutely no possible clue when this next book is going to be out. I'm still writing the second chapter.

I'd usually go home and hang out with my cat, Grumpy, while I sit on my couch eating some random leftovers I find in the fridge but today, I decided I was going to this bookstore I stumbled upon the other day while searching for a place to get Grumpy some food since the place I normally go to was shut down for illegal purposes. (Don't look at me, I have no idea why or how). I looked for a parking spot near the entrance of the store because I was not going to walk the entire parking lot. Once I had found one, I grabbed my things and made it onto the sidewalk. You could see the dim cozy lights from outside the store while towering bookshelves surrounded the walls. I grabbed the door handle and walked in. The soft warm air hitting my skin. This place was beautiful. I felt safe here. I sat at one of the round tables near the entrance of the store and pulled out my headphones, laptop, and my phone. I connected my headphones to my cellphone as I shuffled my playlist. Once a song I liked started playing I unlocked my laptop and opened the word document saved as 'The Butterfly finds her wayDOXC'. I barely got a few words in before one of the people who worked there came up to my table.

"Welcome to Beautiful Wonders! Can I get anything started for you?" The tall man asked with a half-smile on his face. I looked at the male who stood only a few feet away from me. He was so pretty. I didn't see him the first time I came. If I did, I would've been here every day just to see him. "Hi uhm, can I just get a regular coffee with milk on the side please?" "Of course! What kind of milk would you like?" he started scribbling into his notebook "Regular?" "Alright I'll have that right out for you." He said while walking away to the kitchen. Why was this man working here? Shouldn't he be a model for Calvin Klein? He was the most handsome man I have ever seen, He works at a bookstore, which probably means he loves books. Wait does this mean he's most likely read my book? The book I wrote? Oh lord help me. I'm rambling about this random man I met less than ten minutes ago. Is this like 'love at first sight'?

I turn back to my laptop once I had finished with my mind garbage and started to write. The words came out so easily today. I wrote about two hundred words before the male whose name was 'Rome' based on what the name tag on his apron said walked out with my coffee. "Here you go!" "Thank you." I said softly while he walked away to fix the books on the shelves.