NaNoWriMo: Challenge Accepted

Today marks the start of NaNoWriMo. While I do admit that I wasn't in my best writing condition today, I was able to churn out a bit of something to at least get things started. This is going to be a really challenging month and I do hope that I'll be able to deliver. Wish me luck!

In case you guys were wondering, here's what I came up with for Day 1. I won't be posting the entire thing here when it's finished or even the daily progress of it of course, but I do hope that you'll give your insights and feedback based on this prologue alone.

So the working title of this novel is Gray Area. I say working title because I am quite terrible at giving titles.Oh well, I do believe that it will get better. Eventually.

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Gray Area (Working Title)
by Glerren Bangalan

            CC mentally slapped herself for the n-th time that day. She shouldn't be thinking about him. It felt wrong – strike that, it WAS wrong, just plain wrong to think about Cecil Lopez in that way.

            Oh, but how could she not think of him? How could she not think of that soft, tangled mess of dark hair? Of those eyes that glint in mischief ever-so-often? And of that sexy smirk permanently fixed on that wide, sensual mouth of his?

            She groaned, and fought the urge to pull her hair and bang her head on the table. Not the most brilliant idea, especially in the middle of a library.

            'Why?!' she asked the heavens, 'Why me?! Why him?!'

            'Why NOT him?' A coy voice inside her piped up, 'He's smart and funny, confident and hot! And the things that he'll be able to do with his mouth... And don't get me started with his tongue!'

           

            “BUT HE'S GAY!”

            “Ding, ding, ding, ding, ding!” The sound of a bell erupted from the librarian’s desk. The librarian gave her a stern look. She could hear the giggles from the nearby table. CC felt her cheeks burn. She groaned and placed her head at the table.

            “So fucking gay.”

            “Who is?”

            CC froze. She knew that teasing voice anywhere. ‘Cecille Cruz, do not look up. For the love of all things sacred and true, do not look up.’

            “Go away.”

            She heard the chair from across the table slide and the dull thud of a heavy bag being placed on the table.

            “And miss out on you going all drama queen again? Hell no.”

            CC frowned at the table. “You’re mean.” ‘And so is Life too, apparently.’

            “And you’re a baby,” came the reply. “Honestly, when you’re in that mode, I don’t know if I should feel amused or embarrassed to be seen with you.”

‘How about attracted?’ “I hate you.”

“Although, I must say, I’ve been watching you go at whatever it is for the past five minutes without feeling any embarrassment. I must be having a good day.”

“Gee, thanks. I’m glad to know I’ve amused you with my theatrics.”

“Ah, so you do admit you’re a drama queen.”

CC raised her head. “Ceciiiiiiiiiiil!”

“Ding, ding, ding, ding, ding!”

The two winced at the sound before looking at each other. ‘So much for not looking.’ CC thought as she stared at her friend.

At her gay friend.

At her gay friend whom she imagined making out with a minute ago.

She shook her head. She was in deep shit. Why was he the handsome, charming and refined-type of gay guy anyway? Why can’t he be flamboyantly gay or gayishly gay? Life was unfair.