An hour and a half later, I stood at the building of Fable. I hadn't wandered through the streets for long, the building had a huge "FABLE" sign on top of the building. It was pretty hard to miss, even for the shortest and spatially unaware, like me.
Just like the website, the building itself was blue. It was a mix between a rustic-style design and a modern day skyscraper—like it didn't know quite which one to be. Or, it didn't want to choose.
Its foundation was heavy brick, doused in blue paint. Yet, it was tall and contemporary, shaped like a wall street company building.
That was Manhattan for you. Chic. Stylish. Expensive. It had about seven stories, with a long window that stretched from the top of the brick foundations to the building's tip.
I took a deep breath, before walking into the building. The place was absolutely amazing. The doors slid open as I neared the building and I stepped into a huge, spacious lobby, brimming with people. There was a booth in the center of the room framed by a tall, squeaky clean window. There were steaming rocks at the corners of every wall, and a couple of white and brown couches with furry pillows, surrounded the booth.
Along the walls, there were multiple screens and TVs with inspiring quotes about writing, artistry and inspiration, including the Chekov quote that was on the website's homepage. When I craned my neck, I noticed that there was an entirely different room opposite the lobby. This room had endless rows of books that lined the walls and there were people sorting through the books.
The size of the building was intimidating; Fable was a lot bigger than I'd thought it would be. I was expecting a much more modest place, like a quaint office building.
I headed for the booth in the middle of the lobby, manned by a boy who looked to be about my age. He was watching a loud video on his phone, laughing uproariously every few seconds at whatever was happening in the video. As I neared him, I noticed he was watching a youtube video by a popular youtuber, whose videos I'd seen once or twice before.
The crooked name tag on his shoulder told me that his name was Elliot. I stood there for a few seconds, waiting for him to notice me, but, he was too engulfed in his video. I tapped lightly on the marble rock surface of the counter, and he didn't notice.
"Elliot?" No response.
I rolled my eyes, wondering what could truly be so funny about a parody video and how he was getting away with watching it at work, when he was so clearly neglecting the customers.
Fed up, I smacked my palm down on the counter, so that it made a huge booming sound throughout the spacious lobby. Some workers sorting out the books and stories in the library, glanced my way.
Finally, I'd gotten his attention. He paused the video, placing the phone in one of the drawers behind the desk. Then he reached back up and shook his light brown hair out of his face, eying me. For a while we just stood there, staring each other down. And I began to shift between feet, squirming under his intense gaze.
He continued scrutinizing me under his gaze for a while longer, giving me enough time to notice how gorgeous his ocean blue eyes were.
Damn.
Then before his face broke into a goofy grin and he said, "You do realize I heard you the first time?"
"So why didn't you answer?"
Looking me up and down, he said, "I didn't think you were worth interrupting a Palace video. It ruins the experience. You should've waited your turn."
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Instead I said, "I think I'm supposed to see Jennie. C-could you cont-tact her f-for me?"
There it was. My stutter. It always came out when I was nervous.
YOU ARE READING
Virtual Attraction [COMPLETE]
Literatura FemininaWhen seventeen-year-old juvenile delinquent Blaze Allen stumbles upon a popular writing website called Fable, she finds a whole community of introverts just like her. And more specifically, a strange guy, who just won't leave her alone...maybe she d...