Serendipity

☻ Chapter one ☻

ser·en·dip·i·ty

noun

The occurrence and development of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way: "a fortunate stroke of serendipity". ♥

My fingers traced the edges of the yellowed pages, preparing to turn to the next page. The book light was balancing on the edge of my knee, threatening to spill over onto my lap at any second. It was a typical Sunday morning, Blake was working the check- in desk and I was reading an old book in the dumb waiter. It was an old dumb waiter, and fairly large. They used to use it for suitcases back when the building was a hotel, but now it's just old and broken. I guess we have that in common (The broken part, to be clear, I am after all only 22). It has a simple slide open door, and it makes a perfect hide out for me to read, and shut out reality. Blake is essentially my brother. We've know each other since we were teenagers, as I moved to New York City when I was 13. People often ask if we're dating, probably because we're so close, or due to the ignorant societal assumption that the opposite i can't maintain platonic relationships. It's not like that . Not a chance.

I've never had much luck when it came to guys. I spent too much time looking for happiness in a boy that I lost the meaning. Eventually I gave up. If he wanted to find me, he would have by now. I find myself so often using that excuse. If the cute boy at the bar wanted to take you home , he'd ask. The problem, I've found, is that it so often not the case. When are we doing the things we actually want to do?

I started college when I was 17, and finished a about a year ago, and now I'm 22. I know. No one does that. According to my parents I'm some kind of genuis and I'm wasting my brain as a writer. Well its my life now, I'm done with them telling me how to live. They also said that if I ever got a tattoo they'd chop my limbs off. I've got two now. I'm going for a third. Despite how overbearing they were, now they might as well be ghosts. They vanished, took some sort of mid-life-crisis-save-the-children trip to Africa, like an unresolved end to a movie. It fit their prim and prestigious background. It is expected of the rich to do something drastic, prove they are more than a net worth. More human than accumulation wealth, numbers.

I book marked my page, but I wasn't quite sure I was ready to leave my private sanctuary. Mary, the building manager, wanted to go out for coffee today, and I just wasn't in the mood. Sundays were my oversized sweater couch day. And it was December, so this made my need to vegge much greater. I could hear Blake talking outside with someone, and they didn't sound like they lived here. Suddenly Blake was pounding on my metal door, scaring the living hell out of me. I slide open the door, gripping my hair as I tried to stop the echo of pounding.

"What?" I asked, rearranging the waves in my hair.

"Dan came by, he said that he had the most unbelievable job offer for you." I arched my eyebrows, Dan and I were simply trying to get movie rights, not a job. Dan was my partner. He had connections with publishers and producers, and he was also a pretty good writer. We met at a coffee shop, I had my laptop and I was writing the beginning outline of my first book. The basic ideas. He said I looked like a writer, and he was looking for a writer. He claims he perferrs to edit and observe. I'm not sure I fully understand him. He edited all my books, and wants to help me form my second book into a movie script.

"But-" knowing what I was going to say, he cut me off,

"He said you need a project to work on before anyone takes you seriously, and trust me Brooke, you're going to want this." He smiled like he knew the biggest secret, and then looked back down at his computer.

"Are you going to tell me what the job is?" I asked, coming up behind him to rest my chin on his shoulder.

"Dan wants it to be a surprise. He said to meet him tomorrow at 3, because he knows how much you like your Sundays to yourself." I giggled and kissed him on the cheek before grabbing my book to leave up to my room,

"Have fun in hibranantion." He called after me as the elevator door closed, I could only help but smile. I reached my apartment and jabbed my key in lock, flying open my door. Placing my book on it's self, I lifted my cat, Cinna, from her favorite spot on my couch. She immediatley began to pur as I pressed her into me, warming my chest and the room. She was the most adorable fluff ball I've ever seen, grey fur, and big green eyes with flecks of yellow. Blake and I had rescued her and her siblings litter behind our building. It had been raining, and they had been left outside in a cardboard box. They reminded me of an episode of the "The Bing Bang Theory". We made sure they all had sound homes. Blake has her brother, Sheldon.

I picked her from the litter purely for those green eyes. They are simply gorgeous. My phone vibrated from the couch beside me, so I released my kitten to answer it. It was twitter, telling me one of the boys had tweeted.

@Harry_Styles: NYC!!! Good to be back!

I smiled to myself, reminding myself to drag Blake to their hotel sometime tomorrow. I mean, I couldn't go alone. Laying on my couch my mind wondered to this "job" Dan had set up for me. What on earth could it be?

-------------------------------authors note-----------------------------------------

yay! Thanks for reading!

Some side notes: The beginning of this story starts in December 2013. On the side bar is a rough idea of Brooke's tattoos, and the link is her outfit. Lucy Hale is a loose representation of Brooke. Brooke has brown eyes and wavy hair as far as I'm concerned. Picture her how you wish if you choose to continue the story. This isn't going to be a typical fan fic, there will be twists and underlying stuff and morals and good shit so I suggest you continue:)

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