Ivan Rider just came into the streets of London to pursue his dreams of becoming a big time writer then ends up moving in with Elijah Copperton, one of Ivan's favorite authors. From there they are constantly at each-others throats for the title of n...
I'm Ivan, Ivan Rider to be exact. I live in a small place called Norway. Living here is probably the worst thing for me and my hopes and dreams. You see, I want to be a big time writer. But there is one slight draw back. Norway is small. I want to be famous. Small and famous don't really go together. So for now I'm stuck in this god forbidden place till my office job gives me enough money to fly to a city where I can make my dreams come true. Somewhere that people will be able to know my name, that my books can be in library's. Where I can get some attention for once not because of my attitude but my talents! My gifts and my strengths. Where my words will cover brick roads and kids will study and enjoy them for years to come. That's all I ever asked for. For my desires to be received.
"Ivan?" Kendall Woods, my favorite person in this place I call hell, called for me before I lifted my head in interest. Her amber eyes gazed into my scarlet irises before she smacked me on the back of the head. "Ow! What the fuck!?" She smacked me slightly less forcefully, "Language Ivorian." "Don't call me that." "Shush, and that was for the stunt you pulled last week." The memory came flashing back as a few giggles slipped past my cherry red lips. "Aw, c'mon grandma!" "What did I say about calling me that?" "Hm... Can't remember." "Oh whatever you little trickster. Come on now. Let's go and have our walk."
We both got up and started to walk through the busy streets of Norway. Mrs. Woods was probably the closest thing I had to family. My biological family are merely my acquaintances. Of course, Kendall always gave me suggestions on how to fix our relationship but I honestly don't want anything to do with my family. The only people I even consider my flesh and blood are my siblings. Although we may not all be one-hundred percent related it is still nice to know you have someone that has your genes. Even if you know the thing you do about their mother. My 'mother'.
Kendall and I always go on walks after work. It was always inspiring and relaxing. Just the two of us. Sometimes we walk in silence others we rant about our days to each other. Kendall enjoys poetry so sometimes we would take turns making lines of improvised poetic comments about our surroundings so when we arrived back at the class we would be motivated too write more nature and wisdom influenced entries. If anything ended up being good we write the ideas down on small pieces of paper and pin them to a giant cork board for our newspapers we write.
The cold breeze of autumn tickled my nose as I glanced over at the shorter female, "Hey grandma?" "Huh?" "Have you ever thought about what London would be like?" She looked sort of shocked, "Why London?" "I don't know... I heard a lot of writers get published near there. The streets are always busy and that they have accents like us." "Hmm. I never thought about going to London but I do remember being interested in their culture not so long ago. Maybe my mid-forty's?" "What was that-? Eighty years ago?" "Oh shut it you."
"Why so sudden are you thinking about going all the way to London? You do know they speak English right?" I nodded, "I've been practicing. Want to hear?" She smiled genuinely, "Of course. And shot to hear you make a fool out of yourself is one worth while if I say so myself." "Alright... Uh... W-well think me English decent, no sure of grammar." Kendall clapped before raising a brow. "When did you start practicing a foreign language?" "Uhm, around February."
Our conversation continued and I showed of some more of my new English and from then on I continued too improve each day with her help. I learned that some of her family was in Canada so she was fluent in the language even though it was hard to understand because of her heavy Norwegian accent that laced her voice. Our walks turned into English only for practice and my old journal began to be filled with notes on the English language and a few months later I was able to speak almost fluently.
"Ivan?" "Hm?" "Here." The older woman gave me a leather journal as she smiled happily at me. "What's this for?" "You'll see. Don't open it until you get home though." I raised a brow in suspicion. "What are you playing at...?" She laughed, giving her all too casual grin before ruffling my brown hair.
"Why don't you go home for today. I have a surprise for you which you should receive in your email. I think you'll enjoy this one!" The older woman winked which caused me to chuckle slightly in return, "Sure whatever you say grandma. I'll see you tomorrow after school." "Can't wait to see what you come up with darling!"
On my way down the sidewalks of Norway I pulled up my email to look at my supposed 'surprise' to find something that almost made me drop my phone. A smile bigger than ever pulled tightly at my cheeks as I felt the euphoria jump up and down inside my brain.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
