You know, I realised that I'm a very shallow person. If my characters don't look good then I don't feel like writing about them. Is that bad? O_o Anyhoo, I said that I would describe Dawn in this chapter. Even better, how about I show you a picture of what I think she looks like? (Thank you google images :D)
Well here's Chapter 4 of my still untitled story.
P.S So far, most of the places I've described in this story are REAL. See if you can guess where this park is ;)
P.P.S I also realised that I am the world's slowest writer. You would laugh at me if you found out how long I took to write this.
Today was Saturday, the day I was supposed to meet Zack again at the harbour. Too bad I still hadn’t chosen what I was going to wear. What was wrong with me? I usually didn’t spend so much time picking my outfits. I mean, who even noticed what a girl was wearing? Still, Zack was cute. No, he was gorgeous. I sighed and finally picked a blue sundress from the top of the pile.
I checked my reflection in the hallway mirror and tried tying my long, raven black locks into a ponytail. I had inherited my mom’s natural dark hair and my dad’s eyes. Sometimes I wished it was the other way round, that I had inherited my dad’s hair instead of his eyes. I mean, my light, grey eyes often unnerved people. Picking up my violin case, I shouted goodbye to my mom and headed down to the harbour.
When I arrived, the first thing I noticed was that it was a beautiful, sunny day. The second thing was that Zack was nowhere in sight. I walked the length from the IMAX theatre to the Opera House a few times but no one was there. Children’s shrieks were coming from the playground and the smell of coffee emanating from Starbucks was making me drowsy. The water’s rhythmic lapping was not helping either. Propping myself against a tier, I closed my eyes and just enjoyed the sun’s rays on my face.
A guitar strum woke me up from my peaceful reverie.
“Feeling tired at this hour?” whispered a voice in my ear.
My eyes flew open in shock. Zack was lounging against the tier as well, his green eyes twinkling at my expression.
“What were you doing all night? Playing the violin?” he smirked as I tried to compose myself.
“Well not for the whole night,” I muttered.
“Come with me, we’re not playing here today,” he said.
Hopping up, he beckoned for me to follow him. As I was running to catch up, I mulled over his words. Did he just say we were going to play? As in, me busking?
“Here we are.”
I looked around. We were at a large park filled with many, many people. A giant fountain was stationed in the middle of it and huge oaks and gum trees formed a green canopy above. Cyclists, businessmen, families and lovers were all gathered here. Some were sitting on the edge of the fountain; others were setting up picnics on the grass. It was an awful lot of people. Zack wasn’t really thinking of busking here, was he?
Zack found a spot next to the fountain. Taking out his guitar, he looked just like a guy jamming in his room, not a guy who was playing in front of half the city’s population. I could already see some girl’s taking an interest and couldn’t help feeling a little stab of jealousy. Ugh, I was so pathetic.
As the first chords of Jason Mraz’s “I’m Yours” started to play, I forgot about the crowds again. Zack was such a great guitarist and when he played, it was so … so calming. Already, a huge crowd was forming round the fountain. Couples were holding hands and people were singing along.
I checked my reflection in the hallway mirror and tried tying my long, raven black locks into a ponytail. I had inherited my mom’s natural dark hair and my dad’s eyes. Sometimes I wished it was the other way round, that I had inherited my dad’s hair instead of his eyes. I mean, my light, grey eyes often unnerved people. Picking up my violin case, I shouted goodbye to my mom and headed down to the harbour.
When I arrived, the first thing I noticed was that it was a beautiful, sunny day. The second thing was that Zack was nowhere in sight. I walked the length from the IMAX theatre to the Opera House a few times but no one was there. Children’s shrieks were coming from the playground and the smell of coffee emanating from Starbucks was making me drowsy. The water’s rhythmic lapping was not helping either. Propping myself against a tier, I closed my eyes and just enjoyed the sun’s rays on my face.
A guitar strum woke me up from my peaceful reverie.
“Feeling tired at this hour?” whispered a voice in my ear.
My eyes flew open in shock. Zack was lounging against the tier as well, his green eyes twinkling at my expression.
“What were you doing all night? Playing the violin?” he smirked as I tried to compose myself.
“Well not for the whole night,” I muttered.
“Come with me, we’re not playing here today,” he said.
Hopping up, he beckoned for me to follow him. As I was running to catch up, I mulled over his words. Did he just say we were going to play? As in, me busking?
“Here we are.”
I looked around. We were at a large park filled with many, many people. A giant fountain was stationed in the middle of it and huge oaks and gum trees formed a green canopy above. Cyclists, businessmen, families and lovers were all gathered here. Some were sitting on the edge of the fountain; others were setting up picnics on the grass. It was an awful lot of people. Zack wasn’t really thinking of busking here, was he?
Zack found a spot next to the fountain. Taking out his guitar, he looked just like a guy jamming in his room, not a guy who was playing in front of half the city’s population. I could already see some girl’s taking an interest and couldn’t help feeling a little stab of jealousy. Ugh, I was so pathetic.
As the first chords of Jason Mraz’s “I’m Yours” started to play, I forgot about the crowds again. Zack was such a great guitarist and when he played, it was so … so calming. Already, a huge crowd was forming round the fountain. Couples were holding hands and people were singing along.
Hmm, this is going to be a long post. I think I'll continue the next part in another post.
