Siren Awakening - Title in Progress

Chapter 1

 "Mason. You can't just spend your time writing."

"Father -"

"Let me finish." He paced the floor. "You are wasting your time. No one is ever going to read that fantasy rubbish. You have to take your head out of the clouds, and put your efforts into something worthwhile. Hushed Mane has been in our family for generations!" Starting all the way back in 1901, with your great, great, great, GREAT grandfather, to his son, to his, to his and so forth. Down to me. And I will not." He stopped looking back at his son, who was standing next to this bookshelf that covered the whole back wall of his office. Placing his hands on the chair forcing his grip in annoyance. "I will not let you stop the business bloodline just to write stupid stories, NO ONE will read."

Mason knew there was no winning this fight - if you could call it that. He just nodded, put away his things and walked out the door. Leaving his father to go back to his 'important' work.

"Shit this air is cold." He put his Burberry coat across his back.

It had been the middle of summer but as the summer days grew longer the weather had grown stranger. More and more dark and dull. For some days now Mason just thought it was him, after all that's how he felt inside. Dark and Dull.

"Someone looks miserable." The bus driver smirked, her chubby cheeky making her eyes look as if they were closed.

Ignoring his unknowingly true sarcasm Mason walked down the ​​aisle finding not one sit free. Not one.

Noticing his defeated expression a young girl moved her book-filled tote bag off the seat next to her gesturing him to sit.

As she did so she looked at him more closely with a sweet smile.

'Fuck.' This man is stunning. Well-groomed, had a sophisticated scent and appears to be somewhat older than she was. As he approaches her, his eyes crease at the edges, and although his lips aren't completely frowning, they appear to have done so. She goes back to looking down at her lap, back to her thoughts, trying not to be impressed. He represents the type of man whom individuals are likely to have been impressed by simply by looking at him. But she wasn't going to be one of them.

He took the seat, the rough fabric prickling his legs through his pants, reciprocating her smile. "You a reader?"

Not expecting him to speak to her, she looked at him with surprise. "Oh um yes. I am. You?"

"A writer."

"Really?" Now she piped up. "Would I be familiar with any of your works?"

"I don't think so." He looked out the window over her shoulder. "None are published." Wanting to change the subject his eyes laid upon her, trying to figure out what to bring up. When his eyes laid upon the pink folder she had been holding. "What's that?' He pointed. "If you don't mind him asking."

'He is so hot, no stop it!' - "hmm? This?" He nodded. "Um, it's my resume. I'm looking for a job so I'm not just stuck at home all day every day. I'm hoping to get an assistant position somewhere."

"Really? An Assistant position? Well, you might just be in luck. I actually could use assistance. You see, I am an author as mentioned but I also have my father's business to take care of and it just seems to be getting a little, how do I say... insane. Could I have a look?" He gestured to her folder.

Handing it to him, all she could think of was that it wouldn't be good enough. I mean she had some experience working, but only at her local bookstore near her home. But other and that not much. Which was to be expected seeing she was homeschooled and never wasn't allowed to leave the house unless it was with her guardians or for work. And even then it does not seem to be allowed.