The thing about books, the thing I've always loved, is that when you read a book you become the main character. You get to fight the dragon, solve the murder, or fall in love with the pretty girl.
It's the same when writing, you get to create a person and a life that you normally wouldn't be able to experience. You get to be in control.
That's the difference between books and life, you don't get to control what happens to you in the real world.
In the real world, dragons don't exist, you aren't always a hero, and you hardly ever get with the girl of your dreams.
That's why I write.
I write to have the opportunity to be a person who I wasn't lucky enough to be born as.
Of course, I always try to be as close to the person I'm writing as possible. I act how I believe they would act, talk like them, live like they would. Which is exactly why I will be spending the next six months avoiding humanity in a cabin.
My newest character is a guy who thinks to find himself he needs to be completely alone. He decides to move to the woods in the middle of no where and not talk to a soul until he thinks he is truly happy with himself.
It's different from all my other books, there's no romance, no love interest. Just the main character learning to love himself.
My agent (yes, authors have agents.) set up for me to be staying at place where there are six cabins in total, owned by one man and rented out for long periods at time through out the year.
The cabins are spread out over a large area and not close at all. There's a main trail that connects them all and leads to the office building where the owner stays.
I've only seen pictures of it on their website but I should be arriving any minute.
My agent had a car sent for me, we've been driving for a couple hours now, so I know we're close.
"I know." I say.
"I know." I repeat.
"Got it."
"Alright."
"Bye."
Talking to him is just like talking to my own mother, just worse. I pretty much have to follow all instructions giving to me by him if I want my book published by a publishing company that's well known.
My agent is a tall, lean man with dark curly hair and a nice jaw line. I've never seen him in anything other than a suit. He's always telling me what to do, how to do it, and when.
Fortunately, I won't see him for a while.
My car pulls up to a medium sized building with the word 'OFFICE' written sign that's hanging above the door.
I pull my three large suitcases out and set them near the entrance as my drivers speeds off in the direction we just arrived from.
I open the door and a bell rings. There's an ugly green carpet covering the floor. A desk attached to the right wall that extends to the middle of the room and hallways that starts where the desk ends.
I step closer to the counter and wait for assistance. Eventually, a man rushes through a door that's behind the desk and asks for my name.
He's tall, has dark hair cut very short. He is obviously not young but he not unappealing either. He's wearing a blue button up shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows and a pair of dark blue jeans.
"Uh, Irwin is the last name." I watch the man look over a list attached to a clip bored.
"Ah, yes. Mr. Irwin."
I laugh softly. I've only been called that in meetings and such for business when dealing with with other authors and publishers. "Just call me Ashton."
He smiles at me, "Well, Ashton, you'll need this." He hands me a keychain with two silver keys. "And if you could sign this." I take the pen from his hand and draw my signature, it's something I've mastered.
"What's the second key for?"
"Oh! It's for the golf cart, just so you can get down the trail faster. Cars aren't allowed past this point." He says.
I nod.
"So why are you staying with us, especially for so long?" The guy leans against the counter, his voice is deep but calming.
"I'm an author. I'm writing my next book here."
He makes a 'hmm' sound and then says "Maybe you could mention this place. The little authors sections or whatever."
I laugh, "Maybe."
He notices I'm done with the conversation and exist from behind the counter. "If you follow me, I'll lead you to your cart. We keep the ones not being used here."
I follow him down the hallway where we pass several doors before he opens the back one.
"I'll drive you so I can show you which is yours." He sticks his hand out for the keys he just handed me. We stop in the front of the building for me to get my suitcases and then he drives, rather recklessly, down the trail before stopping and turning into one on the right.
"Here it is." He hands the keys back to me and offers to carry one of my bags inside.
I open the door and examine my new living space. To the left of me is a kitchen open to the whole house. It has an island and counter against the right wall. There's a table to far to the left with five chairs.
I walk further in and take the little step up into what is being used as a bedroom. The ceiling is tall and the entire wall in front of me is only windows. There's a bed against the left wall, a king sized, with night stands on either side. Further down on the same wall is a door that leads to what I assume is the bathroom.
A fur rug decorates the hard wood floor. On the right wall is a giant two door closet.
I turn around, facing the door. Off to the left is a set of stairs leading up to a loft that doesn't have a fourth wall, so I can see up there entirely.
I'll use that space to write.
"How do you like it." The man asks setting my bag down next to my bed.
"It's perfect." I look at him.
He smiles, obviously proud of himself. "Well, I'll leave you to it." He starts to walk away. "Oh, before I forget, every time we get a new person we have a 'party'. It's not a real party since there's only seven people staying here but it's good to know everyone."
I raise one eyebrow at him, and almost laugh.
He catches on and laughs at himself before saying "Just come to the office building tomorrow at nine." He let's himself out.
☻
(A/N) Well, hello again. I'm very excited to start this new fic. I've had the idea for a long time and I was originally going to write it as Harry Styles and a girl, but I think Lashton fits just as well ;). Author notes will be at the end of chapters only from now on, unless there's a warning for the chapter. Please, comment and vote! :)
YOU ARE READING
Life In Different Colors (A Lashton Fic)
FanfictionAshton Irwin is a 22 year-old writer who is staying in a cabin for six months to write his newest book. What happens when he meets a boy who is too young for him and too pretty for his own good, will he become Ashton's new muse or ruin Ashton all to...