[Writing is his passion. Has and always will be– he's known this for a long time now. It's been his luck (and blood, sweat, tears, time) that he's landed in the profession of his choice. He's been hopping from job to job over the past few years before he found this company. They let him freelance or work wherever he wants, just as long as everything is on time (it always is). And over the course of his employment, they've given him more and more work to keep him busy, enough that he's comfortable living on his own.
Enough that he can still help support Emi and Shaun, even with all the miles they have between them.
There's probably a rule in parenting and marriage that one should never fill the gap of affection with money, but they didn't live his life, they weren't in his shoes, and he would never wish anyone to be there, quite frankly. Moreover, it's not as though he doesn't feel attached. Quite the opposite. And that's what makes it harder to deal with. The decision of distance was really best for all of them until he could get his life back in order (being what he was made that very difficult).
At least he still has his work, which is what brings him here, to a very unlikely place. Working abroad had never been out of the picture, necessarily, though he never imagined that writing would end up with him in the Philippines. Except he's here, has been here for little over five hours; counting when the plane touched down to when he's making his way to the place he'll be working in. Glancing down at his phone (thank god for GPS), he steps foot into the entryway of the compound, a bizarre feeling washing over him when he looks around. There's a prickling at the back of his neck that makes him feel like something isn't quite normal here, but he tamps it down fiercely.
Because he's not going to let that dumb wolf lurking in the back of his mind to so much as growl while he's here. Least, not until he absolutely has to.
Determined to appear as absolutely not-werewolf-as-possible, he keeps walking, eventually finding himself a bit confused by the layout of the place. This might be a good time to ask for directions.]
Excuse me, do you know where I can find this address?
Keegan Lang || Option 1 + open
[Writing is his passion. Has and always will be– he's known this for a long time now. It's been his luck (and blood, sweat, tears, time) that he's landed in the profession of his choice. He's been hopping from job to job over the past few years before he found this company. They let him freelance or work wherever he wants, just as long as everything is on time (it always is). And over the course of his employment, they've given him more and more work to keep him busy, enough that he's comfortable living on his own.
Enough that he can still help support Emi and Shaun, even with all the miles they have between them.
There's probably a rule in parenting and marriage that one should never fill the gap of affection with money, but they didn't live his life, they weren't in his shoes, and he would never wish anyone to be there, quite frankly. Moreover, it's not as though he doesn't feel attached. Quite the opposite. And that's what makes it harder to deal with. The decision of distance was really best for all of them until he could get his life back in order (being what he was made that very difficult).
At least he still has his work, which is what brings him here, to a very unlikely place. Working abroad had never been out of the picture, necessarily, though he never imagined that writing would end up with him in the Philippines. Except he's here, has been here for little over five hours; counting when the plane touched down to when he's making his way to the place he'll be working in. Glancing down at his phone (thank god for GPS), he steps foot into the entryway of the compound, a bizarre feeling washing over him when he looks around. There's a prickling at the back of his neck that makes him feel like something isn't quite normal here, but he tamps it down fiercely.
Because he's not going to let that dumb wolf lurking in the back of his mind to so much as growl while he's here. Least, not until he absolutely has to.
Determined to appear as absolutely not-werewolf-as-possible, he keeps walking, eventually finding himself a bit confused by the layout of the place. This might be a good time to ask for directions.]
Excuse me, do you know where I can find this address?