Young Writers Society

I walked off down the hallway and down a small set of stairs. The first four had been carpeted in a plush beige but then never finished the job. Still, I liked the quick it gave the place.

At the bottom of the stairwell was a sign that read, in a bold font: SERVICE USE ONLY. I ignored the warning and opened the door revealing the sounds of piano music and laughter that engulfed me. The entire room was ablaze with lights and I squinted, unaccustomed to the glare.

Two or three familiar faces waved me over to greet me but was quick to pull myself away and dash off when they turned to converse with others.

Boss’s office was located at the back of the main room made out of scrap wood and fixed into place with a handful of nails. I eased the makeshift door open without a sound.

Boss was sitting in his chair reading over several sheets of hand written paper, each one crisp and clean. His hair was vibrantly blond and his eyes, usually a dazzling emerald and so full of life and mirth, were stained with tears. I was slow to approach his desk.

“Boss?” I whispered, my voice full of growing concern. But he didn’t respond so I took up a post in an elegant leather arm chair and watched him for a time.

He read without blinking through the bloody red ink words and silently I wished I had learned how to read.

When he was finished, he tucked the pages into his desk and wiped the tears from his cheeks. I’d never seen him cry.

“I’m sorry to keep you waiting,” he began, rubbing tears from his eyes. “It Mathers.”

My eyes widened. Mathers was like my brother. We had grown up together under Boss’s watchful eyes. Boss was fond of us street rats but Mathers was his only son. “What happened.”

“You’ve heard of the Dragon’s Den, haven’t you?”

I nodded my head. I was a dance club, know for its ruthless treatment of women as well as its extensive drug use.

“And you remember Natalia?”

I nodded again, remembering the soft sweet girl who I had met only twice but on both occasions had been mystified by her beauty. She was called the Street Angle.

“Well, Natalia got mixed up in some business with the guy who owns the place, Aruco Sanu. Mathers went looking for her,” he explained. The tears ceased their relentless escape from his eyes, sadness replaced by hatred. Never in all my years had I known him had I seen such extreme emotion graze his face.

“I’ve heard of Aruco but I never even believed he was real,” I shuttered remembering all of the horrible stories that followed his name.

“Then do you understand why I’m so worried? Why I wanted you here?” Boss asked, shifting in his chair as if he was ready to die.

I shook my head confused. I was ashamed. How couldn’t I know what he meant? What he was asking of me?

He sighed in frustration. “I want you to bring them back. Both of them.”

End of Chapter One.


(I'm still working on Two so it could be a while.)

Green = Comment/Correction
Blue = Suggestion
Black = Review

*

I walked off down the hallway and down a small set of stairs.

What do you mean by ‘small set of stairs’? The steps are small or there are only a few steps?

The first four had been carpeted in [s]a[/s] plush beige but then never finished the job. Still, I liked the quick it gave the place.

Suggestion for underlined part: ... plush beige, the rest incomplete. And the last sentence doesn’t make sense, what is meant by ‘quick it gave the place’?

At the bottom of the stairwell was a sign that read, in [s]a[/s] bold font: SERVICE USE ONLY. I ignored the warning and opened the door revealing to the sounds of piano music and laughter that engulfed me. The entire room was ablaze with lights and I squinted, unaccustomed to the glare.

See quote. Suggestion for underlined part: Ignoring the warning, I opened the door to the sound of piano playing and laughter, the entire room ablaze with lights and I squinted, unaccustomed to the glare.

Two or three familiar faces waved me over [s]to greet me[/s] but I was quick to pull myself away and dash off when they turned to converse with others.

Taking out unnecessary parts makes it easier to follow.

“I’m sorry to keep you waiting,” he began, rubbing tears from his eyes. “It Mathers.”

‘It’ = It’s

My eyes widened. Mathers was like my brother. We had grown up together under Boss’s watchful eyes. Boss was fond of us street rats but Mathers was his only son. “What happened.”

This is a question and should end with a question mark.

I nodded my head. I was a dance club, known for its ruthless treatment of women as well as its extensive drug use.

See quote.

I nodded again, remembering the [s]soft[/s] sweet girl who I had met only twice but on both occasions had been mystified by her beauty.

‘sweet girl’ is fine but there isn’t really a need for ‘soft’.

“I’ve heard of Aruco but I never even believed he was real,” I shuttered remembering all of the horrible stories that followed his name

.

‘shuttered’ = shuddered?

*

Hello again!

Remember to read through your work, sometimes I come across a sentence that doesn’t make sense because of a word or two has been added. You could also take out a few ‘was’ here and there, for example:

Boss was sitting in his chair reading over several sheets of hand written paper, each one crisp and clean. His hair was vibrantly blond and his eyes, usually a dazzling emerald and so full of life and mirth, were stained with tears.

Could be:

Boss sat in his chair, reading several sheets of handwritten paper, each one crisp and clean. His hair vibrant blond and his eyes, usually dazzling emerald and so full of life, filled with tears.

I’ve taken out ‘mirth’ as it sounds just like ‘full of life’, wouldn’t you say so? And your eyes can’t be stained by tears, but can be filled with tears.

This is quite nice to read, it’s quick and long-winded descriptions are used to slow it down or draw the readers attention to every single thing in the story.

I’d like to see more and let me know when you do post.

-- Myth