prologue + a/n

32.8K 823 429
                                    

big ol lil note right here before i start ;3;
its not in spanish its just the chapter title bc im not creative with those and i dont wanna do the typical number or word << old news i FINALLY made actual chapter names like 10 chapters into the book jsbkjsdvbj <<<< edit number 2 lol im goin back to numbers for a bit bc im not vibing with the chapter titles i have
this is gonna be third person but im leaning more towards the foci on clay (idk yet doe)
this is kind of a prologue bc i dont have the full story made out yet but i wanted to get in the groove of writing so :)
-----------------------------------------------

A bakery and an art studio is where it starts. Just across the street from one another. Just across the street are two regulars that are no where near regular to each other. The boy at the bakery double works there. He works kneading dough and frosting cupcakes in the morning, in the afternoon he codes for his college classes. After his break he goes back to the kitchen and starts mixing flour, butter and sugar all over again until the moon has risen at a small angle in the sky. On the other side, the boy in the art studio practically lives there. Sometimes he spends days and nights all together just to finish a project he never thought he could complete. He struggles with money, and being a college dropout isn't exactly appealing to many jobs nearby, so his income comes from live art shows. While it is a public art studio, he is really the only one who uses it.

The studio was very run down, old and quite literally a shithole. Its only redeeming quality was running water. The artist, however, made the best out of his situation by trying to create his vision of a cozy studio in the time he has worked there. He redecorated the building, trying to cover up any damp, molding spots in corners. Just like the studio, the bakery was old and rustic. Cracks ran through the fading red bricks and all the furniture was practically the same since it first opened. Not many people worked or went to the bakery, but it was just enough to keep business going. In the middle is a long stretch of road that separates the buildings. It is a moderately busy road to say the least, one or two cars pass by at 9AM and the whole road is filled by 5PM on the dot.

Each of the boys have never really noticed one another. Them being too busy to look over across the street. The college student's nose in his computer and forming cookie dough at the same time, ignoring the pain in his hands. The artist's face in a bucket of paint as he eats the last tuna sandwich he had in his mini fridge even though he hates tuna. Surprsingly enough, the two have been endorsing in their lives in the same place for about a year and a half. Not one glance to one another, not one visit, not one thought about what goes on inside the buildings across from one another.

The baker's name is George. The artist is Clay. And neither of them know how their life will unfold upon meeting at the right place in the right time.

and as per usual ~ about 500 words :)

••¤( 𝙅𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝘼𝙘𝙧𝙤𝙨𝙨 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙎𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙚𝙩 )¤••Where stories live. Discover now