If I and My Cousins are Superheroes: Chapter 1, Page 1
8:07 pm, March 20, 2016.
I am Noah Santos. 18 years old. Currently a college student. I don’t like people.
Tonight is like any other.
I live in a bachelor’s pad my mom rented for me. The ceilings and the walls are still primarily white. Secondary color is a very light brown. I fondly call it ‘mocha’, because it reminds me of a mocha cake. My curtains follow a three-color scheme: two are golden brown and one is white. The doors are painted dark brown.
Whenever I look at them, I can ridiculously see pure chocolate bars. I have a big soft comfortable black sofa. It is the pride of my ‘mini-home’. My cousin even once told mom that it looks expensive.
My bright green electric fan still sings its bee-like buzzing ‘masterpiece’.
My bed still feels soft and cozy.
I am very far from the likes of Bill Gates, but fortunately I live a comfortable above average life in Metropolitan Manila: the seat of power and ‘prestige’ in my home country.
There is an idea that has kept pestering me all throughout the day. I want to write a novel, though I am just an amateur and doing so is a big risk.
At this moment, it seems that the odds do not bother me at all. If you will think it well, I have nothing to lose. I get to write on my spare time. I can risk contacting a literary agent to give me a publisher. If my work passes their somewhat frightening standards, I have a very good chance on hitting millions just like The Fault in our Stars author John Green.