Noah Schnapp Age Novels & Stories

“Son, you should go to the city to work again. Earn more money, then when you’re home you can build yourself a house and get a wife.” Noah agreed. He worked in South City for another year. That year was the fourth year after he had graduated high school. If he did attend university, he would be a university graduate now. That year, Noah was twenty-two years old, young and healthy. He was a steady and hardworking fellow and he did not look too bad either. Unknowingly, he attracted the attention of the boss of the factory he was working at.

"Now, let me help you put on your clothes." "Wait, hold on. I'll..." "We both know you can't put on your shirt with one hand." Noah interrupted him. "So, if you'll excuse me." Micheal was dissatisfied with that bitter feeling at the tip of his tongue but he could only silently allow Noah to treat him like a child. "I could've handled this on my own," he pouted and Noah saw this. He was... Childish. How old was he? Noah had no idea but he was sure he was way over 20. Probably in his early 30's.

It felt as warm as spring in the bedroom. Gwynn took his coat off for him and used her lean fingers to scratch the stains on his shirt. Raising her eyes, she looked at him. “Did you pick a fight with someone? Come on, Noah. You’re forty-one years old, for Heaven’s sake. Did you really take a flight to Hucksburgh just to beat someone up?” He towered over her and stared at her profoundly.

“Oh trust me, you don't want to know. But aside from that, they put her there because I went to college while my father was always busy with homicidal crimes and all that, and my mom was almost occupied with shifts because she was the head nurse. So apparently, Chelsea can't stay home by herself. She might take that as a laxity to snoop around and get her ass kidnapped. And we don't want that, do we?" “Yes, you are right. I don't blame her though. Teens that age tend to be rebellious." I stated as a matter of fact. "By the way, how old are you?" Noel asked as he opened the entrance door for me to come out before following right behind me. “I'm 19. But I'll be 20 in two months, you?" "23," No

her mother said. "Buy coffee" Noah raised the coffee cup in his hand and passed his mother. "Noah, sit down first, I want to talk to you" his mother said. "About what? If you wants to discuss about work, I already said it that I will work when I'm 25 years old, that's only 2 years left" "Noah, don't you want to be like Sean? Look, he can already buy his own apartment from his hard work, he has his own car even though he is only 25 years old"

Mr Stephen, one of the board members who has been with the company from scratch greeted politely and Noah gave him a slight nod. " You represent your grandfather's words. Every word he said about you is true" he praised with a proud smile. " I'm glad we have someone like you," he said. Both the poor and the rich, the young and the old, all admire him and his hard work.The Noah you see today was once an eighteen years old boy who lost his mother and was left to carter for a newly established company.

NOAH “Why don’t you avoid him instead? Have you forgotten why you are there? It won’t hurt for you to drop your pride and besides he’s a teenager,” my best friend Tyler reminded me. “You don’t have to worry about me. I have everything handled. And I know kids like him. He’s eighteen. I’m twenty-one. Just three years difference and he’s old enough to take on a big task. I was his age when I started shouldering responsibilities,” I reminded him.

At least he'd stopped crying by now. Just then Noah shuddered and started talking in a very quiet voice barely above a whisper. It was as though he wasn’t even talking to me, just to the space between us. “I was eleven,” he whispered, “when that story came out. Do you remember the goalie from Vancouver Dogs? The one who got outed after some reporter dug through his private messages?” I nodded, even though I knew he couldn’t see me in the dim lighting and how his face was tucked away from me.

I wanted to be a hoe like my friends, just a body in a crowd, looking for a temporary fix. I was leaning against a sticky pillar, watching the strobe lights flash, when I realized Noah hadn't moved. He wasn't dancing. He was just standing there, a few feet away, his eyes fixed on me like I was the only thing in the room that mattered. It was haunting. It was beautiful. It was annoying as hell. "How long have you been drawing?" I shouted over a remix of a pop song. Noah blinked, the blue light catching the sharp angle of his cheekbones. "Since I was six."