Love Is Blind - The Biography. (Norminah)

No. 1

We spent a lot of time together, the two of us - I mean, it was obvious that we had to - but nothing was ever forced. It wasn't like a meeting, more like a visit. We never had anything scheduled, but I rocked up at her house every day, except Sunday, any time, and she'd still welcome me with a warm smile and open arms.

I mean, she told me that it wasn't necessary to come everyday, but who would pass up time with the Dinah Jane Hansen? A living legend?

I was an observant person by nature. I always wanted to know why things were as they were, why they looked a certain way, why they were there. I always looked at things differently than others, and watched most things carefully before coming to a conclusion.

But with Dinah, it was difficult.

We were at our third week in, and after she told me about her amazing family, her friends, her high school life, and after I put it all in chronological order, I still couldn't figure out why she asked me, me, to write her book. She was the most amazing author around, she could've written her own book - an autobiography - but she didn't. She asked me to write it, and I didn't know why.

"Want to take a break?" She asked softly, rubbing at her eyes.

"No thanks." I shook my head, but rested my pen on my notebook anyway. My hands were almost numb from making notes, but Dinah, although a very nice person, was very closed off to the public - so this would be the first time that some information was coming to light, and she left that in my hands. And I had to make sure that it was right. It was a lot, and I really couldn't start slacking now.

We were only at age sixteen, and Dinah was twenty seven - which is a very impressive age for an author, seeing all the achievements she had under her belt.

"Do you want some hot chocolate?" She asked with a smirk, knowing that I'd be unable to resist.

"That would be good, thanks." I nodded, and she smiled before lifting herself off of the couch, and making her way to the kitchen.

That was how we spent most of our days, in her living room. She sat in the recliner while I sat across her, we had matching mugs of hot chocolate in our hands, as it was winter, and she would sit back and tell me, my pen, my notebook and recorder all stories about herself - which was very interesting. I loved it.

To me, getting all this information was like a personal Beyoncè interview after the year 2013 - I was just that excited.

I got up quietly, abandoning my book and pen, and made my way down the hallway to the bathroom - the only downside of the hot chocolate was the pressure that it put on my bladder. I made my way down the familiar hall, and passed the regular things.

Dinah was a very neat, tidy woman. She always kept everything in place. But she lived alone - surprisingly - so it was easy. Not many people came to visit while I was around - apart from Lauren - her manager, and Ally - her best friend. Lauren always flirted with me, making me uncomfortable, causing Dinah to chase her out, but Ally was a kind soul.

Ally was a successful artist, her paintings hanging all over the city with the most expensive prices slapped on them. She drew and painted beautifully. I admired some of her work as I walked through the hallway, since Dinah was her biggest supporter, and vice versa.

I have yet to hear the story about Ally. As well as Lauren. I'm curious to know how Dinah acquired these... friends.

I walked past the study, which was probably the cleanest room in the entire house, only because everytime I walked past there, everything sat in the same place. Maybe it was because I've never seen her use it, or because she kept it really tidy, but either way, it was always clean.