Chapter One

Maria Borges as Christine Gyamfi

Present- November 20th, 2035

This book is terrible. That is all I can say. Whenever I look at this book, especially this first chapter, it just makes me want to pull my hair out of my scalp. Sometimes, I think that I should delete this book. I know that this is a bit confusing, but let me explain. 

My name is Christine Gyamfi.

I am 31 years old.

I was born in Canada in 2004.

My family and I moved to the United States until I returned to get my degree. 

My birthday is on the 27th of April.

My ethnicity is Nigerian. 

And I wrote the original version of this book in 2020.

I just don't get it. I remember when this book was my greatest achievement. To be fair, I was sixteen and very naive. I would always fantasize about how my stories would captivate my audience. But fifteen years later, I cringe at the awful grammar mistakes. Now that I am revisiting my first book, I can see why nobody wanted to read this. 

I'm sitting in my office right now and a lot has changed. I have learned so much and I know that I can do better. This embarrassment of a book is defiling the screen of my laptop. I even had the nerve to put the book up on W*****d. I don't think that it can get any worse than that.

But I am suffering from the worst case of writer's block, and I need a new story. The loud hum coming from the outdated laptop upsets me. It takes more than six minutes to load anything on this piece of scrap. But my blind excitement for my first book made it seem worth it. 

I was wrong. 

I wanted this book to stand out. In my mind, it was a groundbreaking novel that will start a new genre. It involves two people from two different religions falling in love. Instead, it came out as this lame, generic nonsense.

This is so embarrassing. 

However, I love a good challenge. So, I think that I can be able to remodel this story. I will make it better than what it is right now. Fifteen years as an author has shown me that life isn't really what it seems. Looking back at this particular chapter reminds me of the memories of my life: both the good ones and the bad ones.

Recently, the potential for me to write a romantic book is fading. I always find my new work so predictable and it doesn't really excite me.

But any book I've written is way better than this piece of crap. I can't even make it through to the end.

The characters have no development, there's a lack of setting, the story arc has been used a million times, and the entire book lacks substance.  

I mean, look at this excerpt from my 'great' book.

'"He is the forbidden fruit. If you were to bite into him, then you would be doomed," they warned. However, I had already finished the fresh, forbidden fruit — right down to the core. I didn't care, and neither did he. He was the evil Romeo, and I was the innocent Juliet; we were to be bitter rivals but instead became sweet lovers. He is my addictive drug, and without him, I wouldn't be the same ever again. How can they not see that I need him? He is the love of my life, and I have to have him by my side. '

But it doesn't stop here. At the time, I didn't understand how relationships work. It got to the point where I wrote something as cliche as this.

'It happened just five months ago, but it feels like it has been years. I was at the club with my besties Jenny and Johnny. And we were having fun. I'd gone intending to buy some drinks, and that's where we first met. That was when I met him. Jack Peterson. The love of my life.'

This excerpt is a little bit better than the first one, but it isn't how it went. Jenny doesn't even exist in the first place. Also, Johnny and I only went to the club only once or twice. Besides, how I met my fiance was very different. The only thing right about this book is that I met him in the club.

I want to ask him for help, but he's at work at the moment. This sucks.

So I will be changing my story format. I mean, there will be an actual story arc. However, the first half of the first few chapters will be in the present. The other half will be set in the past. This whole book will be from my point of view. 

The second half is where the real story happens. I'm essentially saying that the first half is just a way to get to know me and the people closest to me. Meanwhile, the second half will be telling my story. 

So now that you know about how my story will flow, I am not you and you are not me. Tell me how it is. Give me your honest opinion about this book. And whether you like my writing or the people that are a part of it, be sure to let me know. (But, please, do this on private message.)

Please enjoy my book. And if there's anything you'd like to know, remember that all you have to do is ask.

Or my name isn't...

ⓒⓗⓡⓘⓢⓣⓘⓝⓔ ⓖⓨⓐⓜⓕⓘ

Past- July 22nd, 2032

~Christine~

I am on my laptop, trying to write my story about forbidden love. Keyword, trying. Even though I am trying to make this story sound authentic, in reality, it looks like hot garbage.

Suddenly, I jolt at the sound of banging on my door.

"Hey! Stop trying to break my door open!" I yell back.

Who is stupid enough to bang on my poor door like that? I shut my laptop and storm to the entrance to give this idiot a piece of my mind. As much as I'd like to deny it, that doesn't go as planned. Instead, I almost became deaf from the tirade that I receive.

"Christine, I swear to whatever deity that you believe in, if you're not ready, I'll hurt you. And it's not a threat; it's a promise!!!" Jessica screams while proceeding to add a couple of more insults about being late and how I am not trustworthy; just for good measure.

Oh, man. I forgot that I promised Jessica and Johnathan that I would drive us all to the club at 10 pm. I look at my watch and realize that it is now 11:37 pm. Whoops. But, it's not like I haven't done this before. In fact, I have done this multiple times. So I'm pretty sure that she isn't going to complain about it. 

"Okay, what do you want?" I ask. She glares at me, giving me a look that screams, 'are you trying to act dumb.' I would laugh if it wasn't for the punch on the arm. She gives me little to no time to react as the pain resonates through my very being. I grip where she punched me and whimper in pain.

I guess a didn't say the right thing. I take back my previous statement about her not complaining. 

"What do I want? What do I want?!?! What I wanted was to go to the club with you over an hour ago, but no- you decided to let me wait outside in the cold for 45 minutes. You didn't even pick up your phone when I called you. And the worst part is that I had to resort to walking to your house ALONE. I HAD TO WALK!!! I don't care if you left me, but you made me walk!! How dare you? You know that I hate walking, and you left Johnathan unanswered too. So, does that answer your question?" She finishes, taking deep breaths as she waits for me to answer her question. I rub my arm as I reply.

"Yes, it does answer my question. But why do you care? I'm always late for everything. Why does it matter right now, Jessie?" I question. Usually, she isn't like this when I'm late. This is because she knows it might happen, and usually, she lets it slide. But I'm not Jessica. So I don't know what's going on in her mind. There's doesn't seem to be a reason for her to act so drastically. 

"Look, I wanted to take you to the club because you've become cranky, Christine, and I don't like how you are. I want us to go out, have fun, and maybe get you laid." I roll my eyes, now understanding why she was so keen on going to the club with me in the first place. But I know that she knows that I am waiting until marriage. 

But I highly doubt that I will get married at all. 

"Ok, how about I ask John if he can get a taxi and bring it here. Then, we'll go to the club together. I'll pay for the cost." I offer. 

Jessica groans dramatically. "Fine, but if I ever have to walk to your house again, you'd better start praying. Anyway, do you have any hot chocolate?" Jessica finishes with an innocent question.

I sigh and nod. I owe her at least that much. Jessica smiles and runs past me into my house. "Just sit there while I make the cocoa," I yell, following her inside.

Ladies and gentlemen, introducing my best friend.

Jessica walks to the living room and sits on the couch. I go into the kitchen to prepare the hot chocolate. When I give it to her, she starts to drink it as if it is the only thing that she'd had to drink all day. She does enjoy my hot chocolate.

I sit next to Jessica with my own cup. I understand if she is still mad at me. However, I am still confused. Why is she mad at me for being late? I am always late. So why now at off all times? What is so important about tonight?

"So how have you been, Jessie? Do you have any more fun stories?" I awkwardly ask. The last time I ever hung out with her was three months ago. So I just really wanted to know how she was doing.

Jessica finishes making the cup of cocoa and puts the mug on the coffee table in front of us. "Okay, um... I haven't really done much apart from work. I'm refraining from having sexual intercourse, thanks to that asshole. And because of this, I have been able to work more than I usually do. And now, I am planning something big that I think that you will enjoy. It has been months since I was able to go out partying," Jessica admits. 

This shocks me. But I am also very proud of the progress that Jessica is making. Jessica is the type of person that lives life to the fullest. She is always partying and having sex with a random man at least once a week. Even though I am not the party type and still a virgin, it doesn't mean that I am going to judge or belittle her. And she doesn't judge me either.

I first met Jessica during my second year at university. She was trying to find her lecture room because if she didn't make it in time, then she would've been kicked out of the course. I was able to show her where it was. When she found the lecture room, she was delighted and insisted that she get my phone number so that we can be friends. Apparently, she asked three other people, and they either ignored her or pushed her away because they were also late.

After her lecture, she texted me so that we could hang out at the mall. When we met at the mall, we had an instant connection, and we've been best friends since that day.

That was eight years ago. Looking back now, I'm still surprised that I was able to find a friend like her. She is the first friend who is a girl. Before her, I only had Johnathan. And I'm glad that I met her.

Jessica looks down at her phone and starts texting. She then stands up and stretches.

"Okay, I just texted John. He's in the taxi and will be here in five minutes. So, get ready,"

She is lucky that we've been in this position before and that I didn't need to get myself ready at all. Jessica was wearing a black tank top and jeans shorts while I was wearing a knee-length floral flare corset dress.

The sound of the car coming through my driveway startles us both. They start honking, giving us the signal that they're here.

"Let's go. But if you ditch me to go dance with some stranger, and I can't find you later, then you'd better call me in the morning so I can pick you up," I instruct. Jessica rolls her eyes.

"Okay, mum, so what are we waiting for? Let's get wasted like dumb bimbos!" Jessica insists while pulling my arm out of my socket. She then starts pushing me into the taxi with John already inside.