I don't know who will care, but I'mm kind of sorta maybe writing a story. Well, two stories. Maybe three.

They are all involving Yoochun of DBSK JYJ (tryng not to be "incorect" by saying he's in DBSK). Anyways, they've all sprung from really random places in my mind. 

• Story A: This one is kind of about this strange summer romance with an OC and Yoochun who find love and comfort in the warmth of each other's necks, and the quiet company of one another. This one is inspired by the strange romances in Haruki Murakami's novels.
• Story B: This one is about how best friends grow up to be miserable adults and must help one another come back to life. Sounds cheesy but I swear its not. I guess I was inspired by the fear I have for the future and of how ed up I could become in the future. It's a Yoochun and OC story.
• Story C: This one is a Yoosu (Yoochun and Junsu) fic about Junsu falling for the strange, vague, and deep voiced heart throb that is Yoochun, even though Junsu is married. And straight. 

The thing is, each day that goes by, I feel drawn to a different story. Each are developing very slowly and I bounce around between stories. Some days I don't even think about anything else but one story. Other days I think of none. There are nights and mornings where I just feel a story is going to grow. 

So in short, it will be a while. But I'm working very hard to write something that is more than just another fic. I want to write something less cliche than anything else I've ever written. I want to create something real and genuine. If you're wondering, it will be nothing like any fic I've ever published. Those were all terrible. They were for my own amusement, not for my own passion. I updated half heartedly. 

As a treat, here's an excerpt from Story B:

When he arrived at the bookstore, he expected to see her waiting for him in the journal section, fingers grazing the moleskin notebooks, hands busy flipping through pages. But she wasn't there. His next guess was that she was in the fiction section, looking through a Murakami book she'd already read. But she wasn't there either.

Instead she was in the cafe, sitting alone, looking at the floor, with the blankest look in her eyes. She was exactly where they had planned to meet, she was punctual, her hair was  utterly straight. 

Ok! Tell me which interests you most and what you think of the excerpt please!!!