Status: WIP
Is This Love?
Introduction
I should tell you that this isn’t a love story, or at least not a typical one you see from films. There will be no epic dance numbers, no wide declarations of love, no pebbles thrown at windows while standing below with a stereo, no horse rides in to the sunset, just life. My life to be exact.
The name is Felix Wilde, a self proclaimed womanizer, pretty little rich boy who has father issues. I know how cliché is that? I’m 24 and use my father’s name to get me places but will never use the money they could provide. Wilde is a name you should recognise, since my father can be dubbed as a millionaire, leading a multinational chain of banks, being tight with his money. Not even spending a dime for his own blood unless it is in his own interest. It’s something I’ve always despised of him, his greed, his selfishness, his lack of compassion. That’s the reason why I ran, why I ran to my cousin’s Tom. The man may not have any drive, or real idea on what he wants to do in life, mainly spending his time on the sofa and sponging off me but it’s his kindness and good nature that stopped me from kicking him out years ago. In a way I guess he provided something my father couldn’t.
Anyway I’m getting off track here, my dad isn’t something that matters, and his relevance in the story is something I hope you can easily over look. For you see, I pretty much got disowned when I turned eighteen which left me to pay for my university fees on my own. The independence and self determination was something I relished in. I got myself an internship in this music magazine, working my way up quickly and effectively. Now I have my own office, it may not have a window and small but it’s something and apparently I am now worthy enough to mentor an intern. My boss Ezra Mills thinking ‘it’s about time we had another one like you Fe.’ I didn’t mention anything to the use of the nickname.
So that’s why I’m here, leaning on the wall, hands in my pockets staring at the clock for the intern to arrive. I’ve been given nothing on them, not knowing what kind of person they are, how they work, what they want to get out of this. Nothing. Then again, why would Ezra do anything helpful for me? I glanced at the clock again, seeing the black hands tick slowly by until they pass the time the intern was meant to arrive. Late. Well these next few months are going to go well.
The name is Felix Wilde, a self proclaimed womanizer, pretty little rich boy who has father issues. I know how cliché is that? I’m 24 and use my father’s name to get me places but will never use the money they could provide. Wilde is a name you should recognise, since my father can be dubbed as a millionaire, leading a multinational chain of banks, being tight with his money. Not even spending a dime for his own blood unless it is in his own interest. It’s something I’ve always despised of him, his greed, his selfishness, his lack of compassion. That’s the reason why I ran, why I ran to my cousin’s Tom. The man may not have any drive, or real idea on what he wants to do in life, mainly spending his time on the sofa and sponging off me but it’s his kindness and good nature that stopped me from kicking him out years ago. In a way I guess he provided something my father couldn’t.
Anyway I’m getting off track here, my dad isn’t something that matters, and his relevance in the story is something I hope you can easily over look. For you see, I pretty much got disowned when I turned eighteen which left me to pay for my university fees on my own. The independence and self determination was something I relished in. I got myself an internship in this music magazine, working my way up quickly and effectively. Now I have my own office, it may not have a window and small but it’s something and apparently I am now worthy enough to mentor an intern. My boss Ezra Mills thinking ‘it’s about time we had another one like you Fe.’ I didn’t mention anything to the use of the nickname.
So that’s why I’m here, leaning on the wall, hands in my pockets staring at the clock for the intern to arrive. I’ve been given nothing on them, not knowing what kind of person they are, how they work, what they want to get out of this. Nothing. Then again, why would Ezra do anything helpful for me? I glanced at the clock again, seeing the black hands tick slowly by until they pass the time the intern was meant to arrive. Late. Well these next few months are going to go well.
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It's been a while since I've written anything original so feedback on this would be really appreciated.