Read Across the Music (Across the Ocean Book 2) Online
Authors: Heather Sosbee
Across the Music (Across the Ocean Book 2)
Across the Music
By Heather Sosbee
Across the Music
Heather Sosbee
Copyright 2014 by Heather Sosbee
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents, either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locations is entirely coincidental.
Due to explicit sexual content, language, and some disturbing scenes, this book is only suitable for ages 18 and up. There are scenes that could be considered a "trigger" concerning death.
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This book is dedicated to Jónas, my husband. Without your support, I would never get anywhere. You help to push me in the right direction, and your opinions and enthusiasm for my writing make me a better person.
Iceland, this is for you. I love living in you, and I love telling everybody about you. Thanks for giving me a perfect platform for my books.
Last but not least, this book is dedicated to the foreigners who come to this country (Iceland) and have had to deal with the difficulties that it includes. I hope you find love here, if that is what you want. There are so many amazing people in this country.
Lalli, Daniel, Hjalti, Gunnar, Magnus… You guys rock.
Across the Ocean
Brooke's Photo Diary, a visual companion to AtO
Angie, you once again have helped me more than you could ever know. I wouldn't be here doing what I'm doing if I hadn't found you. I love you, you are my favorite. Thank you for every little thing. You are my anchor.
Since you're reading this book, you might enjoy others like it, and I recommend that you check out this site for great recommendations for other books like it.
Thank you to Kristin who practically held my hand through this one, and who pushed me to make it better, bounced ideas with me, and made me smile through this whole process. Your encouragement, efforts, and your sweetness are so important, and I am so grateful for you.
To my beta readers: Adrian, Theresa, Kristin, Megan, Jessie, Nura, Vanessa, Tina, Angela, Heather, Michelle, Rachel, Brandy, Christina, Lisa, Karan, Amy, Wendy, April and Christine… Thank you for all of your tremendous support. I love you hard core. So does Loki. In his pants.
G’day, mates. My name is Sophie McLachlan. I’m twenty seven years old, and I'm not anybody special. Not yet, anyways. Maybe someday the world will know my name; if I have any say about it. I’m a singer and a musician, so of course I am hoping that’ll pan out in a big way in the not so distant future. I feel so cliché saying that, as it's what most musicians want and hope for. Oh well, I'm one of the many I suppose. Just add me to the list.
I'm from New Zealand, and I guess that means you could call me a Kiwi. I am told that I'm decently outgoing, and I don’t have any problem telling people things as I see them. Really, honesty is the best policy in my book. I tend to keep my personal life to myself, and I tend to get uncomfortable when people pry about it.
Are you interested in what I look like? I hope so, since I'm going to tell you anyways, even if you've said no. I've got pale green eyes, and long, almost white-blonde hair that falls nearly down to my waist. I’ve been told I’m attractive, but it’s never been anything I’ve paid a huge amount of attention to. I'm a firm believer that what’s inside is what matters, and that your inner beauty will find a way to shine through; if you're a good person. I'm approximately five foot seven, and I've been blessed with a fine set of tits, and an ass that I'm proud of. I can't and won't complain. If I'm not your type, well, I consider it to be your loss.
I’m currently visiting Iceland for an undetermined amount of time (I am sort of living here), and I arrived a few weeks ago due to family bullshit back at home. I’m not typically the type of girl to book it when times get tough, but sometimes a situation warrants the escape. I've heard that the music scene here in Iceland is absolutely brilliant, which is exactly what I need right now, to immerse myself in music. Electronic music is more my thing, but I have a taste for all kinds. There is a music festival happening soon called Iceland Airwaves in a few months, and I can’t wait to go.
Music is what I do and who I am. It’s always been my escape from reality when times were hard, and without it, I’d be lost. As it turns out, I’m often trying to escape reality, so I'm surrounded by music all the time. I can’t allow myself to think of what’s going on back at home right now; the distraction of being here is wonderful and a breath of fresh air that I haven't taken for granted yet.
I'm quite experienced with play guitar, piano and I'm also a trained singer. Learning these things when I was young has to be the most helpful and inspiring things I've done in my life. They have helped me make it through terribly tough times.
Sometimes I can just listen to a perfect melody, and poof; everything else around me simply vanishes, and I ride the waves of the notes; feeling them swell and flow inside of me. They wrap around my beating heart and protect me like a shield. The rhythm pumping along with my blood can also be a sensual experience for me.
If I didn't want to be a musician, and I was better at mathematics, I would have tried to be an astronomer. I have a deep seeded love of the stars, and the night sky. Nothing has the ability to make me feel as insignificant as when I look up into its vastness. It helps me appreciate what I have, especially when I’m full of self-pity. Since I'm not gifted with numbers, I'll stick to music.
I've been staying with a friend of mine and her name is Hilary. We lived down the street from each other for many years as kids in New Zealand, and she definitely understands my situation. We’ve remained fairly close all this time, despite difficult times, and she’s my best friend. She came to Iceland for a job a year and a half ago, and really seems to love it here. She works with a company that runs and designs a popular online game. She's extremely domestic now, and even is part of online groups for foreigners who meet up here in Iceland and stick together for moral support. I keep forgetting to join this group; I really could use more friends.
I’ve made a few friends while here though, Lára for one. Maybe you’ve heard of her? She's half Icelandic, half British. I've made friends with a few of people from Tálknafjörður; a tiny town on the west side of Iceland, too. Hilary is friends with several people who grew up there, and since the country is so small, everybody knows everyone. She's recently left the country, and moved on to Scotland to study at a university.
But you don’t care about her, right? You care about me, and want to know all about me. At least, you better. Otherwise, what’s the point of reading this,
eh
? That makes me sound full of myself, doesn't it? I've been pleasantly surprised to see how friendly everyone was in Tálknafjörður, and how welcoming. Even though I was so piss-ass drunk and out of my mind most of that weekend, I was touched by how many people made an effort to talk and interact with me, and I know it’s helping to lift the fog that had seemed to take permanent residence over me. Observing such a small community taking care of each other just makes me never want to leave.
This country has blown my mind with its beauty. Over the time-span of my stay so far, I've been in awe of how unique the scenery is. It can change so quickly from being dramatic, epic mountainscapes to flat lava fields covered in neon green moss. You turn around the corner of a mountain, and it becomes black sand beaches and clouds so low and thick that you could almost walk into another world if you were to enter it. It's mind boggling, humbling, and reminds you just how small we are compared to Mother Nature.
I haven’t
buggered
anyone these days, but not for lack of wanting. I’ve been feeling so lonely, and it’s becoming almost unbearable. My lady parts are feeling rather grouchy, and I don’t blame them. I’d really love a good romp in the sack. I’m tired of struggling to have love and someone to care about me in my life. Since Mum left, it’s been just me taking care of Dad. God damned Dad.
It’s been difficult for me to even find someone for
me
to be interested in. One would think that with as much as I immerse myself in the music world, I’d be sure to find a stud muffin rock star of my own, easily. I don’t think my head has been in the game much, though.
I did lay eyes on a sexy Icelandic bloke recently. In Tálknafjörður, to be more specific. He was playing a gig at the pub we were partying at. He was something delicious and enticing. Short and dark wavy hair paired with stunning blue eyes. I remember their shape was unique and special, and I couldn't stop looking at him.
I had instantly felt like a teenager around him; nervous and jittery with excitement. I wanted him to notice me, and I wanted to keep his attention. There was something about his energy that drew me and comforted my soul when I was around him. Until I screwed it all up, anyways. Stupid Sophie!
He has a blinding smile with pearly white, perfect teeth. I’m a sucker for a beautiful smile. I’d even go so far as to say that I frequently judge people when I meet them based off of the first smile they give me.
You can see lines around a person’s mouth if they are comfortable with smiling. Their eyes crinkle with good humor. Their shoulders are more relaxed, and they usually have better handshakes and hugs. The people who have stiff faces, awkward handshakes, and insincere smiles are so off-putting. Obviously I’m a bit fixated on smiles. Gunnar's was perfect though, pure goodness without any hint of maliciousness.
Back to the subject at hand though; I was embarrassingly smashed that night. I'm surprised I was capable of walking, I was so drunk. During this time I talked to Gunnar and made a complete fool out of myself. Sheesh, just thinking about it makes my cheeks heat up with embarrassment. I practically threw myself on him, and he either was completely clueless, or he was not interested in the least. I can’t even get into that right now; it was a hit to my ego that I haven’t recovered from yet. I'll tell you the rest when you and I get to know each other a little better.
What am I up to now? I'm currently in the middle of my first evening of work at an Italian restaurant on Laugavegur, in downtown Reykjavík. It's Friday evening, and the pace has already helped me to pass a few hours without any trouble or downing thoughts.
I have plenty of money on my own, but I need to stay busy so I don’t get too caught up in my brain. I don't think it's healthy to not be productive, and since Hilary knows the owner of this place, she was able to hook me up with the job. I'm extremely grateful for it, because even though I make music on the side, I need something more to fill the time.
Several of the side jobs I had back at home were with waitressing and bartending, so this is a cake job. Even though I don’t have any real grasp on the Icelandic language, in my experience, a lot of people here speak varying levels of English. This evening has gone more smoothly than I anticipated. I had been nervous when I started earlier.
I'm in the middle of a smoke break, even though I don't smoke, so I walk into the loo to double check that my face is still in place, and still looks fine. After locking the door, I turn towards the mirror to smooth down the loose strands of hair that have escaped the neat bun at the base of my neck, and slip in a few extra hair pins in from my pocket for extra security.
My outfit is completely black, as I've found most waitressing jobs prefer, with a simple scoop-neck shirt paired with matching jeans. My black ankle boots complete my basic waitressing outfit. I look just like any of the other employees out on the floor now. My makeup is light, with only mascara, a sweep of a light peachy colored blush along my cheekbones. My lip gloss is fading, but I can't be bothered to re-apply it, so I just take a moment to meet eyes and have a pep-talk with myself in the mirror.
Breathe in, breathe out. You've got this. One day at a time.
I turn to unlock the door to the loo, and return to my shift.