Hi guys! Welcome to a collaboration! I now have three stories up and running, and will soon bring The Roommate Agreement to a close. Much sad. Loving a bad-boy, is still going on. So far the update schedule is;
Saturdays- The Roommate Agreement, (and Russie's chapter of The Art of Creation)
Wednesdays- My chapter of 'The Art of Creation'
Thursdays/Fridays (whenever I get it done)- Loving a badboy, isn't all it's cracked up to be.
Any questions/concerns/comments, please message either I or Russie, you can find both of our tumblr links at the bottom of the page.
Thanks bbys.
~Miyo
The awards never went to me. No matter how much hard work went into my experiments or creations, somebody else with greater ideas, ambitions, goals, would come along and take what I has spent months creating, and why not I suppose. I learned very early on that anything that you may want in this world is to be earned, and not given. However, my days of losing awards, and recognition are over. I am young, 18 years old, and I've recently been accepted into the most prestigious College of the arts, and sciences in the world.
I, Felix Arvid Ulf Kjellberg, will be traveling to America in two days to attend InterCross University For the Arts and Sciences.
I remember when we received the letter. I didn't have the slightest of chance that I would get in. After all, I had just lost the first place position in the annual swedish science fair for young prodigies to an american biochemical science major who happened to be studying in Sweden and had taken on the science for for, 'Shits, and gigs'. he had told me after the award ceremony.
He had a Western American draw to his voice, and a thin build. He wore his dark brown straight hair in an unruly fashion. Donning a pair of dark, thick framed glasses, and a wrinkled lab coat hung lazily over his shoulders.
"No hard feelings?" He had asked me. The first place trophy hung limply in one hand, as he outstretched his other in friendship. Besides myself, I had shook with had with much regret, and he shot me a cocky smile.
"I'm Toby." he introduced himself.
"Felix." I said in broken english. The pieced together friendship was unexpected, and two weeks ago. Since then, the young college major went back to America to begin his second year in college, and I had gotten my acceptance letter that night.
"I got accepted!" I said in shock at the dinner table. My father glanced at me from behind his paper, which had become like a part of his anatomy over the years, and my mothers had hesitated in serving dinner. Both large feats for the couple.
"Accepted?" My mother asked in Swedish. "To that American school?" I nodded, and looked to my father for his opinion. After a moment he hummed in response, and scratched his beard with one diamond clad hand.
"Sounds interesting." He mumbled, bringing his hands together to turn the page of his newspaper before letting it cover his face once more. My smile soon died down, and I turned my attention back to my plate. Uncomfortably aware of the fact that my parents couldn't care less.
Throughout the rest of the night I tried bringing up various topics from my major, to how I would be getting to America and when. The answers were always the same.
"Thats nice sweetie." From my mother, and,
"You know cost is no problem." From my father. Both answers that I could repeat by heart if asked too. And both answers that, in my parents world, seemed to fit every explanation. Eventually, I gave up on trying to win their interests, and pushed my plate aside, excusing myself for the night.
