Welcome to my first story! I started writing this almost a year ago but it's not done. I have a bunch prewritten but don't really know where I want to take the plot. As it stands now, it's general with no angst and minimal drama. If it sounds like angst will fit it might move in that direction.
I own a MacBook Air and an iPad but not Twilight.
Prologue:
MasenAroundTheWorld started following you.
MasenAroundTheWorld liked your photo.
MasenAroundTheWorld commented on your photo.
MasenAroundTheWorld liked your photo.
MasenAroundTheWorld commented on your photo.
MasenAroundTheWorld liked your photo.
MasenAroundTheWorld commented on your photo.
MasenAroundTheWorld liked your photo.
MasenAroundTheWorld commented on your photo.
My phone kept buzzing with Instagram notifications.
MasenAroundTheWorld? I thought. Who is this rando who liked 4 of my pictures back to back?
I opened Instagram and clicked over to MasenAroundTheWorld's profile.
"Just a guy taking pictures wherever work takes him."
Right. I'd like a few of his pictures the other day when I was trolling for sunsets to paint. I normally didn't really browse specific accounts when I was scrolling tags, but the first picture had been so gorgeous something had pulled me to look at the rest. As far as I could tell, the guy never posted any selfies. It was just travel pictures. Mostly nature, lots of sunsets. They weren't really touristy pictures, a little weird for a travel account, I thought.
I clicked follow back. I liked his pictures. It would be nice to get some nice pictures of places I could never visit filtering through my feed sometimes.
I clicked back over to notifications and checked which photos he'd liked. They were my four most recent pictures. One of the courtyard of my building, covered in snow and looking like a greeting card. His comment said "wow, what a perfect blanket." Another picture was of the cake I baked for my roommate's birthday. "Looks delicious. Happy birthday, Rose!" he'd written. One was a picture of a painting I'd done of the house where my grandma lived when I was a kid. "You're incredibly talented. And it looks like a wonderful place to go." The last picture was a picture of me. Not a selfie—Rosalie had taken the picture. I was in a UDub sweatshirt, covered in paint, and laughing. My hair was pulled back and a little wild. I was a bit of a mess, but I looked so happy for a change. "You're so beautiful" was his comment. Well, he's clearly full of shit.
And that's the prologue! Tell me if there's something you think would be great in this story. "InstaPals: the Actor (and the Baker)" will come along at some point too by the way! I've written less EPOV than BPOV but it'll happen.
There's no schedule for updates. This is also totally unbeta-ed. If you think it has great potential but needs your special touch, I would gladly accept your help!