Lost, Are We?

"Please teach me to become a better writer!"

"Oh?"

Joaquin got his glass and sipped his whiskey as he looked at me in a condescending manner.

"I need something in return," he teased as he put his glass down on the table, making me nod excitingly.

"Yes, yes! I would do anything you ask for!"

Hearing her feedback, he stood up from his chair then walked towards me, chuckling.

"Erm..."

I stepped away from him, now bumping my back on the wall behind me. Surprised, I gasped as he did a breathtakingly hot “kabe-don”. He then spoke near my ear, sending shivers down my spine.

"What if I ask... for a collaboration?"

***

~One hour ago, Joaquin’s party in his mansion~

I adjusted the hem of my borrowed dress, my heart pounding as I slipped through the grand entrance of the opulent mansion. The evening air was cool, carrying the distant hum of the city. Inside the mansion, however, it buzzed with the vibrant energy of the literary elite.

Crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over the expansive room, their light reflecting off the polished marble floors and the countless glasses of champagne being circulated by the attentive waitstaff.

I took a deep breath, scanning the room. “Joaquin… Joaquin…” I mumbled his name, remembering that this is only my chance—a rare opportunity to meet the legendary Joaquin Greyson, the man whose books had inspired me to become a writer.

Well… actually, I loved writing since I was a child. However, Joaquin Greyson… you rarely come across a handsome man who is a famous writer, in the same city where you grew up. I really want to learn from him!

She walked through the hallway, looking left and right for Joaquin Greyson. The borrowed invitation I had obtained through a friend felt like a golden ticket, and I am not determined to squander it!

As I continued to walk through, clusters of elegantly dressed guests engaged in animated conversations, their laughter mingling with the soft strains of classical music played by a live quartet.

Authors, publishers, and critics moved effortlessly through the crowd, their voices rising and falling in a symphony of intellect and wit.

“Oh, geez…”

I gave myself a sigh as I felt a pang of self-doubt. Compared to me and my modest achievements of just working in a small publishing company, being friends with another known author who was kind enough to stay. and is also a friend of Joaquin…

I am nothing.

“Come on, Haven Thorne…”

I gave myself a sigh, pushing aside my thoughts that are doubting my capabilities. I am here for a reason!

Soon after, my eyes finally landed on Joaquin. He stood near the grand piano, his tall frame commanding attention even amidst the throng. His dark hair was perfectly styled, and his tailored suit spoke of understated elegance. He held a glass of wine, his posture relaxed, but his eyes sharp.

It’s as if he was observing the room with a hint of detachment.

Is he not enjoying his own party? This is indeed a party he threw since his recent book is a major hit. He’s a really good author when it comes to sci-fi, historical-romance, and fantasy-romance. The interaction of his characters in his recent one made me swoon!

Is he in a relationship to be able to pull their lines off?

I shook my head to snap myself out of my reverie. I bit my bottom lip, my eyes already set on talking to him.

‘Is he going to be mad once he knows that I’m here secretly because of Jessie?’ I cocked my head to the side as I continued to think, furrowing my brows together. ‘She’s a known, but humble author of a small publishing company. I’m friends with her and she’s sick, so I’m using her invitation as a way in…’

My eyes darkened as I remembered how Joaquin constantly rejected me because I’m a nobody. I’m just an ordinary girl, working in a small publishing company as a copy editor. I mean… I write my own stories since I was young, but I just do it for myself.

Right now, I want to share what I’m writing to the world!

I actually attempted to share what I wrote to Jessie and she told me I could take a shot… but I felt like it’s still out of my reach—like I still lack something.

And I want a known author’s perspective, Joaquin—who is also a fellow fantasy-romance author. I want a male point-of-view!

Summoning all my courage, I began to weave my way through the crowd. I nodded politely to those who passed, careful not to draw too much attention to myself as I know some of them might wonder who I am…

As I drew closer to Joaquin, snippets of conversations reached my ears—discussions about upcoming book deals, literary trends, and the latest publishing scandals.

I actually want to stay to listen to the “spilled teas”… but he’s already here! I have better priorities in mind.

Finally, I stood just a few feet away from him, close enough to catch a whiff of his cologne—something woody and sophisticated. I hesitated, my mind racing to find the perfect opening line.

‘Damn it! Why am I acting stupid now? I’m not dumb! Say something, Haven!’

But before I could even speak, his piercing brown eyes locked onto mine. It made me freeze on my spot as he raised an eyebrow, his expression a mix of curiosity and amusement.

“Lost, are we?” he asked, his voice smooth and rich.

I swallowed hard, feeling my cheeks rush as I didn’t expect him to speak first!

“N-not exactly.” Darn it, Haven… you sound stupid! “Ahem…” I cleared my throat, hoping to steady my voice despite the butterflies—no… dragons, flying in my stomach. “I came here to speak with you.”

Joaquin took a sip of his wine, his gaze never leaving my face. “Is that so? And what, pray tell, does a copy editor like yourself want from me?”