Writing on the Mirror (eBook)

Mark D. Gonzalez (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2024 | 1. Auflage
288 Seiten
Bookbaby (Verlag)
979-8-3509-8724-9 (ISBN)

Infos

What happens when the lives of the wealthy residents of an upscale Manhattan cooperative apartment building are upended by a judgmental demon? 'The Writing on the Mirror' tells the love stories of a handful of residents of a very posh apartment building on Manhattan's Upper East Side. A malicious phantom, who communicates in a very specific way, wants them all to know their moral defects. You may never see yourself in the mirror the same way again.

Mark D. Gonzalez is a graduate of The University of Texas at Austin and Columbia University. He lives in Manhattan with his husband, Daniel Nieciecki, and their Maltese dog, Diego.

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Jeremy Franklin is about to start his first day of art school and is excited about the possibilities that await him. A hundred years before, Cooper Davies was navigating life in 1920s New York as an investment banker with a secret. Their stories intertwine with the lives of the other residents of a luxury cooperative apartment building on Fifth Avenue in an intriguing story of paranormal mystery. "e;The Writing on the Mirror"e; blends contemporary urban fantasy and historical fiction to explore themes of romance gone right and romance gone wrong with a special eye on the progressive changes that have benefitted LGBT people over the last century. Among the colorful cast of characters is the apartment building itself, a fictional tribute to the classic designs of Rosario Candela, who created many of New York City's luxurious residences. "e;The Writing on the Mirror"e; takes the reader on a journey through the heart with drama, humor, tragedy, and suspense.

Textauszug

1

Jeremy Franklin was the kind of guy everyone expected to attend art school. Shy, brooding, reserved, and a bit coy, he was never known for a big personality. Jeremy preferred a quiet coffee shop over a noisy bar, enjoyed the library more than the student union, and chose his apartment instead of visiting friends. Despite his tall frame, suitable for basketball, he disliked sports and leaned toward academics, particularly art and photography. At 18, he often sported a four-day scruff that matched his dark brown hair. This contrasted nicely with his blue-gray eyes, and his hair fell slightly over his right eye, suggesting he needed a haircut but never bothered to get one. Usually styled with hair styling cream by Bumble and Bumble, it struck the perfect balance between neat and messy. During summer, he favored a crisp white linen shirt, casually worn with a few buttons undone.

His bedroom was the same one he grew up in, and the morning sun shone brightly across the white sheets of the queen-size bed, which were drawn up over Jeremy’s nude body. The room was cool, and the only sound was the purr of the air conditioner. It was 6:54 AM on Tuesday, September 5, 2023, as he checked his iPhone with a throbbing headache. He was too hungover to get up and close the walnut wood blinds on the double-hung windows, which he had forgotten to close the night before.

Jeremy enjoyed six minutes of tranquility before the phone rang. It was Olivia Jaeger, his best friend from childhood. They had met in kindergarten at the Dalton School, an esteemed institution in Manhattan, where they continued their education until graduating from high school just three months earlier.

“Good morning, Olivia,” said Jeremy in a groggy voice.

“Wake up, sleepyhead!” yelled Olivia.

“Wake up? I feel like I never went to sleep! Why did I let you bring Jake over with all that wine? You know I’m a lightweight!”

“Very funny, mister! You’re a lightweight for now! College starts for you in what ... four hours? You’d better get used to drinking! Get out of bed and smoke a joint! It will make you feel better.”

“You’re right. You’re always right!” exclaimed Jeremy. His hangover made him cranky.

“Just get out of bed and do it now. ‘Wake and bake’ is my prescription for you. Who cares if it’s the first day of college? It’s not like you’ll be doing anything, really—meeting the professor and getting a course syllabus. You can handle that baked. Just show up and look pretty, like you always do.”

“What about you? What time is your first class again?”

“I told you last night! Ten o’clock – English Lit!”

“Oh, that’s right. Sorry, I didn’t remember. It’s Jake’s fault.”

“Jake’s fault for getting you drunk or for being so handsome? You’ve had a crush on him since ninth grade. To be fair, so did everyone at Dalton – even the straight guys!”

“You’re not entirely wrong, but listen, I’ve gotta go. Even if I just shut these blinds, it’ll be a win. Maybe I can grab some water and a pain reliever as well. Can I call you later?”

“You’d better call me later! I need to hear how your first day of school went, even if it is Parsons! I’ll forever be sad that you didn’t join me at Columbia! I’ll never see you anymore, and we’re in the same city!”

“We will see each other. I’m sorry, Peaches. You know I—”

“I know. I know. You’re an artist. That big brain of yours is going to waste.”

“Bye, Olivia!”

Jeremy finished the call and tossed his iPhone onto the nightstand. He remained still for a few minutes before getting out of bed and shutting the blinds. At the window, he paused, watching a handsome guy step out of a taxi, likely a resident of the co-op across the street.

“Someone got lucky last night,” he said in a low voice before shutting the blinds.

As the room darkened, he instantly felt a sense of relief. Having spent his childhood in this space, he was familiar enough to navigate to the nightstand in the darkness. He switched on the lamp and glanced at his phone, displaying 7:20 AM. He looked over a text message from Marta, the Franklins’ maid of twenty-three years, who was almost like a family member. To Jeremy, she was akin to a second mother.

Marta: Jeremy, I went to the farmer’s market. Will return by 9:30 AM

“I have two hours,” he whispered to himself.

Because he knew he was alone in the apartment, he didn’t bother to throw on any clothes and walked down the hall of the massive apartment to the kitchen for some water and a pain reliever. Turning on the light revealed a huge chef’s kitchen full of white marble countertops, white cabinets imported from England, and stainless-steel appliances. Jeremy opened the door to the 36-inch-wide Sub-Zero refrigerator and pulled out a liter of Volvic water; it was his favorite. He guzzled it with a pain reliever and then guzzled another liter.

The kitchen showed signs of last night’s impromptu gathering. Jake Jaeger, Olivia’s older brother and confidante, aimed to kick off college life with Olivia and Jeremy. Four empty wine bottles cluttered the counter—equal parts Tempranillo and Rioja, all courtesy of Jake.

At 25, he had just earned his MBA from NYU Stern and started his first position at a major investment bank. A finance prodigy, he lived in Tribeca with his basset hound, Sam. Like his younger sister, he sported exceptionally blond hair that always looked immaculate, resembling a Ralph Lauren model. At six foot three, Jake’s tall stature and striking looks worked in his favor; it certainly didn’t hurt. He was the life of any party and thrived on bringing excitement wherever he went.

After downing the water, Jeremy headed to the library, passing through the grand gallery of the apartment. The library featured three sets of arched French doors that opened onto a terrace overlooking Fifth Avenue. Its walls were adorned with fumed oak paneling, complemented by wood herringbone floors and twelve-foot ceilings decorated with plaster moldings on an off-white backdrop. The cream drapes perfectly matched the furnishings. Using an app on his iPhone, he played some music. As Daft Punk’s Random Access Memories filled the room, Jeremy sat at the large desk and opened the top drawer. Inside were multiple glass trays for different types of cannabis, containing a dozen pre-rolled joints and a lighter. He took out a Sativa joint, lit it, and began smoking, which eased his hangover. As he got increasingly high, he couldn’t believe he was starting art school in just a few hours at Parsons School of Design, one of the most prestigious art schools in the United States.

From a young age, Jeremy displayed exceptional artistic skills, beginning to draw in first grade. Art flowed naturally for him, a talent nurtured by his affluent parents, Betsy and Hank. They supported his passion by enrolling him in private art classes, supplying him with quality materials, and gifting him an advanced Nikon camera during middle school. His portfolio boasted stunning watercolors of Central Park in autumn, intricate ink sketches of local classical architecture, and striking black-and-white street photographs. Thus, his acceptance to Parsons came as no surprise.

Sitting at the large wooden desk in his library while listening to music, Jeremy reflected on the new chapter ahead of him. Being a romantic at heart, he hoped to find a boyfriend. Would love blossom for him at Parsons? Life in the Village would contrast sharply with his Upper East Side upbringing at Dalton, which was another reason he chose Parsons. He aimed to remain in New York, distancing himself from his preppie roots as much as possible. Attending Columbia with Olivia would only perpetuate that lifestyle; it would feel like more of the same.

Listening to music and smoking a joint made time pass quickly. Although Marta was not due to arrive until 9:30 AM, Jeremy heard a key in the front door at 8:45 AM.

“Oh no! Marta’s back early!” he shouted, rushing to his room. Being caught naked by Marta was the last thing he wanted. The music continued blaring Daft Punk through the apartment’s built-in speakers.

“Jeremy? Jeremy?” Marta yelled loudly, waiting for an answer. She stood at the entrance to the bedroom corridor.

Jeremy was under the showerhead in his private bath by this point—a room slathered in white marble with chrome fixtures. With his bedroom door shut, Marta figured Jeremy was getting ready, so she left the bedroom corridor and returned to the kitchen.

“Well, someone had a good time last night!” she said when she saw the remnants of the previous night’s soirée. “At least I have something to do!”

Even though her responsibilities lessened as the Franklin children grew up and left home, and the Franklins themselves moved away, the family continued to employ her. They appreciated having someone to care for Jeremy, their youngest (and most cherished) child, who genuinely valued her presence. Marta, who hailed from Matamoros, Mexico, felt lucky to have served the Franklins for so many years. She still resided in her original room in the servants’ wing of their apartment.

Initially consisting of four small maid’s rooms, the servants’ wing was renovated by the Franklins upon their arrival. They merged two of the small rooms into a larger space for Marta, converted another into a laundry and utility area, and transformed the final room into an I.T. facility to support various apartment systems, such as...

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 15.12.2024
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Romane / Erzählungen
• ISBN-13: 979-8-3509-8724-9 / 9798350987249