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𝐓he best way to bring people together, was through a wedding or a funeral.
That's what she believed. Her (step) grandmother, Gloria Noonan, said and believed that people connected through music and mutual interests. Of course there was enough proof in history and enough statements to prove that belief, but there was also proof of people sharing an interest and feeling nothing but jealousy and anger towards one another.
That didn't mean that Y/n would stop doing what she likes, writing what she likes.
The interest of books started at a very early age for her, five. She went from normal children's books, to myths and legends, to fantasy, supernatural and romance and then to horror, thrillers and poetry. Her taste of reading had never been something specific. She only knew that she disliked certain books, but not because of their genre.
Her style and preferences in books was a scattered mess all over the place. In one shelf space could be books about the paranormal and supernatural. And in the shelf below that horrors and thrillers.
Simply put, she reads a lot. And whenever she gets the opportunity, she does it. And then slowly, she evolved to writing her own scenarios. Sooner than later, she started writing her book. Book turned into books, plural.
Three notebooks filled with hand written words. Three books she has created.
Book one : Awakening, twenty-three chapters, 43.112k words in total. It tells the story of a young girl exploring an abandoned mansion with her friend group and realizing she can see more than she thought. Written at the age of eleven. Not one of her favorites or best works, as she was still evolving and discovering her own ability in writing and finding her own writing style, but for a child of that age, it is impressive.
Book two : Dusk and Dawn, thirty-five chapters, 122.576k words in total. This book tells the story of two young fighters escaping their village, that was overrun by the government, and discover that the world they knew before has completely changed. Written at the age of 12-13. In this book, along the way and through the chapters, she started developing her own writing style and character development and build up. It got a thumbs up from Gloria.
Book three : Alive, thirty-nine chapters, 156.968k words in total. The third book takes place in Japan, where a myth about a woman without arms and no face, comes back to haunt teenagers after they entered her abandoned home where she was said to have died. Written at the age of fifteen. Her most recent and favorite book, since she at that age was almost obsessed with the theme and genre of paranormal.
Her fourth book, that she was currently writing at sixteen, is tilted Songbird and Butterfly. The first romance book with a slight hint of angst. At the moment, she was only one and a half chapters in, and she was struggling.
She has enough William Shakespeare books on her shelf that described his view on love that could help her, but the whole time she felt like something is missing as she was trying to find the love interest for her main character. Y/n has never been in love.
Sure, yes, she had small crushes here and there, but she never put commitment to those and never actually felt something as strong as love to them. She didn't know what it felt like to be fully in love with a person, to crave their touch and words.
And so, she struggled like every other writer with her fourth book. (None of those three books are published. Just works she kept to herself.)
That new notebook she carried almost everywhere, pages to be filled with her cursive writing. With the leather notebook in hand she greeted the people entering the church with a lazy, soft smile.
Gloria's husband, Rob Hilliard, had invited them both to the funeral of his basketball coach. Or more like as his personal supporters. Gloria was able to sugar coat words, comfort people. Meanwhile Y/n would go right for the throat and state the facts as they are, but in those words she would modivate and help him move on from things or pressuring situations.
Standing there, playing nervously with her silver rings, she wore a white dress shirt tucked into black loose trousers, over it a v-neck, sleeveless, knitted sweater with a matching, easy-fitting, colored tie hanging around her neck, tucked under the sweater. Inhaling deeply she relaxed her composure and put a relaxed grip on her book.
"Y/n, darling!" she turned her head, finding it was her grandmother calling her, seeing her standing with Rob and two other people. Further back were more adults, more kids. "Come here, please!"
With the same smile and silent steps she approached the group of four, Rob setting a hand on her shoulder. "Lenny, Roxanne, this is Gloria's granddaughter, Y/n." Stretching out her to the man she greeted, "Hello Mister Feder, heard a lot about you."
"Good to meet you, Y/n." Shaking his hand she then let go, turning to his wife. "It's lovely to meet you, Misses Feder. Your clothing line is gorgeous." She complimented, earning a bright smile from the woman. "Your style is not that bad yourself, Y/n. Very comfortable, yet fashionable. Your rings are lovely too."
Letting go of her hand she stuck it into her pocket. "Thank you." Turning back to her (step) grandparents, "I'll go back inside. Maria can't find her designated seat, like usual." Gloria gently stroked her shoulder. "Thank you, dearie."
Taking a few steps backwards she smiled at the Feder pair one last time before walking into the chruch. "It was nice to meet you Mister and Misses Feder." The said two smiled back politely with Lenny giving a small wave.
"Why does she carry around a notebook?" Lenny turned to the two in front of him with a raised a brow, his tone showing his confusion. "Oh, Y/n loves to write. She already has three notebooks full of her own work. The notebooks basically being a book she handwrote herself." Gloria responded with a smile that showed her proud feeling for her granddaughter.
The Feder pair shared a look with each other, nodding in approvement of the statement. "Impressive." Lenny commented.
And he stood there like a fool. Antonio Feder stood beside his brothers like a fool with lovestruck eyes. Usually, he wouldn't believe in love at first sight, and this experience, this feeling, doesn't change that belief.
He didn't fall in love with her right at this second. Antonio became mesmerized by her. Not just any part of her. It was her eyes. There was such a depth to them that got him stuck in her eyes. It wasn't the e/c color that made him stare, or the shape of her eyes. It was the maturity in her looks, in her glances. The experience that others his age seemed to lack.
The age in her eyes, the age in her soul that defied her physical body age. Like the layers of a tree, she had swirls in her eyes like no other, shining in the yellows of the sun.
If only she could see the reflection of the sun in her eyes, maybe she would ignore the shadows in her fingertips.
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