Love Is In The Smoke

Deflating Excitement

Hello, all you lovely people out there. I hope you’re having a good day.

This chapter has all the things I realized I should have said in the earlier chapters, because apparently, you only get noticed when you connect with the readers. I guess it makes sense. So, how about we get to know one another a little bit, huh?

Alright, here we go.

So, this story has been in my head for quite some time, and as a fragment of my imagination, it differed, keeping the basic plotline same of course, enormously from what you’re reading. In the imagined version, the character development progressed differently, and so did the location setting, among many other things.

But it was when I started to type my story out on screen that I realized these characters had a mind, a life of their own. I had been thinking I was the creator here, but the way the story came out, like, from the very first chapter, I felt as if I was a ghost in the room as Ryan snorted coke and whatnot, or in the Porsche, watching the siblings as they played their parts out, watching from afar as the plot unfolded.

Simply put, I was powerless. I was the puppet and these two, Ryan and Abby maneuvered the strings.

And this feeling, that of the story having a mind of its own, it was so……so thrilling, exhilarating.

Now, to you, this might seem sound completely absurd, I know. But that’s how I felt, the end of it.

Moving on, I wanna say that this being my first story, I have some great expectations from it. Yet, I understand that I’m only an amateur and there will be plot holes, there will be moments when the dialogue will be cheesy and painfully unfunny, when a character will seem hollow and indecisive, and when a tragedy that I put my heart and soul into to make seem painful, will turn out anything but painful.

Despite this, I totally lose myself writing each chapter.

Therefore I ask of you to bear with me, and am very grateful to those who are giving it a try.

Also, if you like the chapter, please, please do vote. And comment what you feel. It’d make me really happy. Don’t, for the love of God, be ghost readers.

Here’s a little random fact about Abigail. In my mind, she’s a furry little ball of figurative brilliance, love for literature, and partial psychic abilities. Everything she says has relevance and meaning. And I like to portrait her that way, though I know most of the time I’m incapable. Writing her part, although a breath of fresh air (after Ryan’s nihilism drains me out), is a challenge to the senses.

She is the most beautiful and intelligent woman, inside and out, I’ve ever seen. To make love to her is a dream of mine I know will never come true.

Abigail is, and will forever be, my lady-love.

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Also, I'll update every week, if shit does not go wrong.

Happy reading.