#quote from a glimmer of light refusing to fade

[kdkdnfuiahuag]

“[will] also inherited his father's hate. but instead of turning it outwards and hurting people because of it, he turned it back inwards.”

“part of what bothered her was that will just… completely normalized that self-hatred.”

[myblueeyedbuggers]

My Boys

Chapter 12

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11  Chapter 13 Chapter 14

Pairings: Steve Rogers X Reader (Best Friend) Bucky Barnes X Reader

Word Count: 2420

Warnings: Slight bit of swearing

Summary: After being abandoned by her parents in Brooklyn in 1929, y/n makes a living for herself by working for the Црни лабуд gang until she meets two boys in a back alley and her life slowing begins to change.

Eyup My loves! Soo How’s your week been? Good I hope, so a bit of news for you all, there’s only  two/three more chapters left till this book is finished and then we’ll be moving onto (Drum roll) The First Avenger! Woooo! I hope you’re all as excited as I am. Anyways without anymore rambling, I give you chapter 12, enjoy!

So I can safely say that the rest of the week passed pretty quickly, with only a few ‘minor’ incidents, one of em being a massive food fight caused by yours truly and Steve getting himself stuck in the basement for 2 hours after seeing, and I quote ‘a possessed girl dressed as undead batman’.

I still haven’t told him that was me….oops

Apart from that it was pretty normal, cut to today where I’ve been blessed with the task of lookin’ after my best girl for Buck’s parents anniversary whilst they go into the city to celebrate, I mean it’s the least I could do for em. Plus, the last time the lads were trusted with lookin’ after Becca, Buck’s parents came home to the entire house covered in flour with Becca laughin’ at em cause they managed to lock themselves in a cupboard. We had to call the fire department to get em outta there.

Anyways, we kicked the boys outta the house so Becca and I could have a girls day in, now don’t get me wrong I absolutely adore this girl and I would practically do anything for her.

“Y/n can we play princesses please?! Mama got some dresses from our cousin we can wear!”

I can literally feel my soul burning right now. I honestly tried to say no, there’s nothing more I hate more that being forced into them things but one look into her bright little eyes made all my resistance die away and so I uttered the words that sealed my doom. “Of course, Becs only if we can have a tea party in em”. So here we are, me in a navy style party dress, lace covered my arms and the hem of the sweetheart neckline resting just on my collarbone,  the knee length satin skirt covered my legs.

Honestly, I wasn’t as bad I thought it were gonna be, I even let my hair outta the classic ponytail it’s always in so Becca could style it a tiny bit, to her credit she did a decent job. My h/c locks fell in small waves across my back, with the longer strands near my face tucked behind my ears and Becs even convinced me to pop on some of her mama’s makeup. Now I ain’t a fool, I know makeup’s pretty expensive and only let her pop on a shimmery light gold eyeshadow and some tinted lip balm, much to her disappointment I confiscated the mascara, I refused to let that death stick near my eyeballs.

Becca looked absolutely adorable, we’d managed to find her dance dress from last year and it suited her down to the ground. Baby pink lace covered her arms up to her wrist, the middle part had little gems dotted here and there with a pink satin ribbon separating the skirt from the top, from the looks of it the skirt was made outta some layered netting that poofed outwards when she span around. Don’t ask me how but I managed to wrap some ribbons in her braids and added a lil tiara on the top of her head and if you’d asked me, she looked like a real-life princess to me.

“So, your highness, what would one prefer to do? Would one like to have tea in the parlour or waltz in the ballroom?” my attempt at the British accent was apparently appalling, judging by the level of giggles coming outs Becca’s mouth. Eventually she calmed down enough to give me an answer “I think a waltz would be most fun lady y/n” she said in an equally bad accent. Slowly a smile spread across my face as I moved over to the record payer, I didn’t even pay attention to which one I put on before I turned back to Becca and offered her my hand, lowering myself into a bow that looked like a squid tryin’ to tap dance. Very elegant I know.  

You’d think after the past few weeks I’d been with the Barnes family, I’da got used to being tackled by the siblings, but alas I am surprised every-time, hence why I’m on the floor with a hyperactive 4 year old sat on top of me. Becca’s giggles filled the entire room, she quickly got off me and started jumping around to the sound of the jumpin’ jive and leaving me to slowly die on the floor, for all of 5 seconds before she yanked my arm outta my socket to get me dancing with her. I swear this girl isn’t even human, one second she’s sweet and delicate the next she’s bulldozing people to the ground and pullin’ em to the next life, I mean she’s 4 she shouldn’t be that strong!

Thank the lord she’s adorable. Quickly the music took over my mind, my feet moving along to the music, Becca was doin’ some twirls around me with the biggest smile on her face, I don’t know what made me do it but I grabbed her gently by the waist and spun us around in time to the music, her little arms reached into the air as we both laughed our heads off. Of course, me being me, I lost my balance and my butt suddenly met the sofa, with Becca landing next to me with a small yelp, it was quiet for all of 2 seconds before we burst out laughin’. Think it took us about 3 minutes before we calmed down, a comfortable silence fell between us, the music slowly faded to a stop as the record reached its end, and we stayed like this for a while before Becca broke the silence.

“Y/n, can you sing like mama? She don’t do it often cause it reminds her of my nana….” My eyes drifted over to Becs, her lil eyes dulled a little when she said it and now they were filled with a small glimmer of hope, and I really didn’t wanna be the reason for that light goin’ out. If I were being completely honest singin’ wasn’t something I ever wanted to do again, during my time with the Црни лабуд, singing was the only thing that made me feel like….well me I guess. It was the only sliver of light in so many years of darkness and once I was free from them I made myself a silent vow that I’d never do it again, that I was a new person. But one look in her little eyes was enough to make me break it. “I ain’t too bad, only know a couple of songs on the piano but I can try if you wanna”

Apparently Becca didn’t need to be told twice, in a flash of pink she was off to the other room, bellowing for me to follow her, I mean it ain’t like I gotta choice in the matter is it ? the sound of something hitting the floor in the room opposite me made me move even quicker (if that were even possible). Becca was stood in front of a oldish looking piano, a small bench was tuned over in front of her, and a white sheet was discarded on the floor next to her as she bounced up and down excitedly, I couldn’t help the smile on my face as I turned the bench over on it’s feet. Not even 2 seconds later Becca clambered up on it and looked at me with a bright smile, I swear she gets cuter every second like how does this happen ? I try it and I end up put away in a mental asylum.

“You got any requests princess ?” my legs carried me across the room and towards the seat, cracking my knuckles together and stretching out my fingers before turning to look at the younger lass, a look of concentration covered her face in response and it took her a few seconds to answer. “Dream a little dream of me ? think that’s what mama calls it” I swear I tried to stop the soft smile, but I really couldn’t help it this time. “sure sweetheart” and with that I hit the opening notes, the feeling of the keys under my fingertips were so familiar it was like no time had passed since I last played, I kept my voice soft and quiet as I sang. I think I was halfway through my second verse when I felt Becca cuddle into my side, she ducked her head under my arm and put her head in my lap, a soft yawn left her mouth as her eyes started to close to the sound of the music. It was at the end of the song that I looked at her again, soft snores escaped her mouth and her hand was grasping gently at the top of my skirt, I felt my heart melt even more that I thought possible, completely unaware of the small audience I’d gathered until a small cough came from behind me.

Aw shit…..

Bucky’s POV

If you’d told me a year ago, that after spending a couple of hours at Coney island with my best mate I’d come home to what must be an angels voice singing my sister to sleep. I’da never of believed ya, think you coulda imagined our confusion when me and Steve heard piano coming from the dining room. Steve shot me a look of pure bewilderment, and I couldn’t blame the guy to be honest, “thought you’d said your mama gave up piano couple a years ago”. I’m guessing my face mirrored his, cause I ain’t the slightest clue either, mama stopped playin’ years ago so who the heck could it be? “yeah she did bud, swore she’d never set her hands on it again…..”. I’m completely and utterly baffled at this point, where’s Y/n when ya need her ? she’d figure this out.

We both took a step towards the closed door, eager to know what the hell was going on when something stopped me, the sweetest sound I’d ever heard in my life sang along with the melody, I coulda sworn it sounded like the lullaby mama sang to us when we were kids. I guess I spent too long listening cause Stevie boy pushed past me and walked in, the sounds were so much clearer and more vibrant it felt like I’d died and gone to heaven right then and there. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I realised just who was creating this beautiful sound, there she was, sat in front of the piano as her fingers danced gracefully across the keys. Her voice, oh god her voice sounded like that of an angel, the weak afternoon sun shone over her hair and made her look even more angelic than humanly possible. I barely even noticed Becca asleep in her lap before Y/n finished her song and the ever-living pain in my ass decided to reveal that we were there. I mean he coulda chosen any other way of revealing our presence but no he had to let out the tiniest little cough, coulda got her back for the eyebrow incident….

Y/n literally went stiff as a board before she turned to look at us, her cheeks were red as a rose and a sheepish smile covered her face, it was only a couple of seconds after that both Steve and I noticed what she was wearing, he burst out laughin at her but me, I for once in my life couldn’t say a damn thing. She looked absolutely breath taking, her hair fell down in soft waves and framed her face, the shade of blue in her dress brought out the small flecks of green in her e/c eyes and brought out her hourglass figure. Her lips were drawn into a natural pout and it was that second it dawned on me she asked me somethin’….shit.  

“whaaaa…….” Nice one Bucky.

Steve, the lil punk, could barely stop himself laughin’, at some point he’d moved to take Becca off Y/n and stood behind y/n with his fist in his mouth to smother his laughter. My best friend ladies and gentlemen. If looks could kill he’d be 10 feet under right now.

“Buck ? I was askin’ if you were okay ?” Y/n’s face showed a tiny bit of confusion and much to my horror amusement, “YeAh I’m okay….” And just at the moment puberty strikes in the form of a voice crack, as if this weren’t embarrassing enough. At this point Steve was barely keeping it together, he had actual tears coming outta his eyes and went bright red in the face tryin’ to stop himsen laughing, in front of me y/n furrowed her eyebrows and did look genuinely concerned for my mental state. She didn’t say anything for a few seconds, just looked at me before she lifted her hand to my forehead and held it here for a minute, thank god Steve chose to leave the room before this or I’da never heard the end of it.

“You sure you’re okay, feelin’ a bit warm and ya actin weirder than usual Buck” okay quick say something before this gets even more embarrassing, first thing that pops into ya head in 3,2,1…

“Yeah I’m sure, think I ate somethin’ funky down at the pier, makin’ me real gassy”……why am I like this? Normally I can charm any girl of their feet but with y/n, I’ma bumbling mess.  She didn’t say a damn word, she just raised her eyebrows whilst a small smirk covered her face, before she turned and left me to have a very small breakdown underneath the dining table.

Meaning I let out a noise that sounded like a bear stubbing it’s toe in the middle of winter.

I thought my luck couldn’t get any worse, but nooo old lady luck decided today I needed a second helping, cause the second I did that Y/n walked back into the room. Brilliant. I was too busy stumbling over my words to processes what she was doin’, before I knew it she’d walked back to me and stood on her tip toes….then planted a small kiss on my cheek.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered Barnes”

And just like that, she left me with my jaw on the ground and heart beatin’ outta my chest, cause I’m starting to think that she was right. I’m sure as hell coming down with something, and I’m pretty sure it ain’t a regular ol’ bug…..

SOOO, if you got this far hope you enjoyed it, as always any feed back or constructive criticism is welcome, thank so much for reading and hope you have a great day/night/week.

lots of love

Rose xxx

[unluckyplanet]

The More Villainous Side

Summary: Thomas adventures through the imagination and finds something... unusual

Warnings: Remus, One(1) Innuendo,  giant holes, darkness(I think that’s it, but if there’s anything else I should tag tell me)

Word Count: 1298

---

Here he was. In the imagination, or technically in his living room. Both? Probably. Either way Thomas had made it into Imagination, a realm made for all of his fantasies and characters to live in. He had always been curious about it, but never gotten a chance to explore. Yes it was his own imagination, but considering how little he knew about parts of his personality there would be tons of things to discover there. 

And from the looks of things, he was right! The land was full of meadows and forests straight from his dreams. The sky was filled with birds of paradise that had no place in the temperate land. In the distance a castle sat glimmering white and gold. Towers with dragons spiraled around them also seemed dotted around the land. Basically it was a dream come to life—literally. The land even seemed misty and hazy. Like it refused to be real. 

Thomas finished taking in the scenery and set off to explore. His face turned into a wide beaming smile as he thought about what he should do. He could fight a dragon and save a handsome prince! Or, oh, was that a unicorn in the nearby forest? Thomas set off in a random direction to see what he could find! Everything just seemed so amazing!  So awe inspiring!

He wandered into a nearby forest. It was sunlight and a bright friendly green. Thomas could hear the chirping of birds, the chittering of squirrels. He was barely looking at where he was going. No, the magical looking flowers were much more interesting. The wild animals that seemed to smile at him were much more engaging. 

Thomas suddenly felt the ground—or the lack thereof under his foot. He quickly snapped his attention back in front of him. There was a giant hole in front of him, and he had just stepped into it. Panic flashed through his head, and he reached for something—anything that he could hold onto. He grabbed a root that bordered the whole, and looked up. A large tree with silver apples was right in front of the hole. Thomas began climbing up the tree roots when one of those silver apples fell out of the tree. It landed right on his head and everything went dark.

Thomas opened his eyes after what seemed like a few moments. He was still in the imagination, but it was nothing like the land before. No, he was in a cave down the hole he had fallen down. Looking up Thomas could see a bright light above him, but it was far above him. He tried to find a handhold, but the cave wall was crumbly and fell apart with too much force. He turned towards the dark tunnel in the cave. It looked like he had no choice, but to go down it. 

As he walked in the visible light from the hole faded. The surroundings turned into a pitch black void. Thomas ran his fingers against one of the walls, just so he knew something was around. Step, step, step. Thomas walked on. Crumble, crumble, crumble. The walls and floor and darkness of the tunnel remained the only things he could see. For what seemed like eons (but was probably minutes) he walked on. Still just darkness and dirt.

“Hello?” Thomas called out into the darkness.

“Hello! Hello. Hello… Hel… lo,” The cave echoed back 

Thomas’ spirit dropped farther than he had. He looked behind him, but the void behind him was just as dark as the void in front of him. His breath sped up as his anxiety worsened. For a second he thought that he could summon his sides to help. He closed his eyes and concentrated. Yet when he opened them there was still no light, no words and definitely no sides. At this point Thomas didn’t know what else to do, but continue. So he took a deep breath and picked up his pace.

Finally, finally after what seemed like an eternity, Thomas found something. Or more specifically, he found light. Green-ish light shining from something in the distance. Thomas began running towards the light. Maybe he had found an exit! When he reached the light he found a much larger cave. It had an exit! And a weird tree molded out of some silvery metal. Thomas almost rushed out the cave, but something about the tree was mystifying. 

It looked carefully crafted. Gossamer thin leaves came off of thin spiraling branches. The three had an otherworldly green glow, shining gently in the dark cave. Bumps in whirls in the metal bark seemed too real to be real. Like it’s magic, or a petrified tree. Most intriguing of all were the glowing items nestled in the tree. A brain shaped object, glowing in between the roots. A cloud crackling with electricity caught in the top branches. A heart nested in the tree’s branches. A snake curled around the tree’s trunk. And lastly, a star sitting inside a nook in the tree. 

Thomas reached for the star, and a mace smashed right in front of him. Thomas jumped back and let out a shrill scream. Both because of the mace and it’s wielder. Remus looked at Thomas with a wicked smile on his face. Remus wrenched up the mace and blipped it away.

“Well if it isn’t Thomathy!” Remus said. “Visiting my side of the imagination? What a surprise!”

“I uhhh, just kind of wandered here,” Thomas said nervously. “Through the tunnels.”

“Well have you finally decided to try out some of my ideas?” Remus asked. “It’s never too late to jump into a industrial fan!”

“No!” Thomas yelled. “I just want to get out of here.”

Remus frowned, “Awwww, come on! Your viewers would enjoy something more exciting!”

“Maybe... later?” Thomas said, although the words seemed strained. “I’m still kind of freaked out from...” He gestured at the tunnels.

“Huh,” Remus huffed. “Well if you want to get back to reality you’ll have to cut off your own head!”

“What!!!”

“Just kidding,” Remus cackled. “All you have to do is close your eyes and focus on reality! The fun stuff or the boring stuff.”

“Thanks…” Thomas said. “And what is that?” He pointed at the glowing heart.

“Oh, the paragon of vice!” Thomas gave the duke a weird look. “Hey! Roman made up the name, not me. I would have named it something much better.”

“Well what does it do?” Thomas asked, already knowing it couldn’t be good.

“It’s basically you but a ‘villain’,” Remus said, putting air quotes around the word villain. “All the most fun parts of you get magnified! At least all the parts of your personality.”

“But there are some other fun parts that would be great magnified,” Remus winked.

Thomas couldn’t help but laugh at that. He looked at the tree and back at Remus. The weird artifacts were obviously bad, but he was still curious. What was evil Thomas like? There were obviously artifacts for all of the sides, so what were the evil versions of his sides like? And why was Remus of all people warning him about it? Thomas would have expected Remus to be happy about Thomas acting less nice. He wanted to find out more, but Thomas knew he had things to do in real life.

“Well, thanks for helping me out,” Thomas laughed.

“Your welcome! After all you can’t become a nudist trapped in here!” Remus yelled.

Thomas closed his eyes and concentrated. Slowly he felt himself sinking out, like when he left a side’s room. As the world slowly shifted from the imagination to reality, Thomas could hear Remus yell one final thing at him.

“And if you wanna try some more adult stuff I’ll be here~”

[grandmalavi]

Moondance, a Marquillo/Serquel fanfiction. My first time writting about these two, so I hope it it isn't too cringy nor extremely OOC. Enjoy! :)

“MOONDANCE”

Raquel found Sergio outside, seating by the beach, bare chested and barefoot underneath the moonlight. Staring at the crashing of the waves, it seemed as if the ocean held all answers to the overthinking going on inside that brilliant mind of his.

He'd sneaked out little after dinner, when she'd been too enthralled in a conversation with Ailyn, the kind Filipina woman he'd hired to help with them with house chores, to properly notice his escape. Once she'd noticed his absence, though, Raquel immediately knew where he'd go— in this pacific island of theirs, there weren't many places to run off to, after all.

She'd left her mother to continue chatting with Ailyn from where she knit by the kitchen table, calm and chatty as the woman rarely was these days. They discovered the sound of one of Sergio's old classic records would have a surprisingly soothing effect over Marivi, and it now played softly at the background as Raquel left the room, travelling upstairs to found Paula already tucked in bed. The little girl flipped curiously through the pages of one of the books Sergio had purchased for her birthday, a month ago, and once her mother sat by her side, Paula filled her ears with excited babble over Harry Potter's newest adventures until finally being convinced into turning the lights off and going to sleep. Smiling at her small form underneath the sheets, Raquel had left a crack of her daughter's door open, so that she'd have that little bit of light coming inside the room the way experience taught her it'd make her feel safer, although the talk around bedtime these days was that nine was too grown up to be afraid of silly monsters anymore.

Then, and only then, Raquel went out in search of the complex, annoyingly withdrawn man she turned out to love— supposing she'd given him the time alone he seemed to need to think, by then.

Their living room double doors opened to a breathtaking view of the ocean, and in specially hot days they'd taken a habit off setting in the comfortable net outside and watching as Paula ran around in the sand with her new Palawan friends. She and Sergio would talk about nothing and everything, swinging pleasantly in the arms of one another while exchanging the silliest smiles, between caresses and kisses that'd leave them both needing and turned on, although much too comfortable with just snuggling innocently in the breeze to move inside and do something about it, at the same time. Their touching would be torturing, but of the best, slow-burning and arousing sort of kind— leaving both flustered and breathless afterwards, often clinging onto one another like high schoolers until the time they'd be alone again would come.

This night, Raquel stood by the doorway while bracing herself against the chilling ocean breeze coming in, her eyes wandering briefly until she found Sergio's familiar form, his slean shoulders bared outside in the cold, although he remained unflinching in face of the waves constantly licking his legs. Feeling a wave of sadness wash over her at how lonely he seemed, she sighed, and without further hesitation started making her way toward him.

Her feet dug into the cool sand, goosebumps lifting all over her arms once she reached the spot where he sat, pushing her wavering hair out of her eyes to stare down at him. Cross-legged, Sergio had his elbows over his knees, not only his jeans soaked by the come and go of the ocean but all the rest of himself, as well. With water drops still glimmering in his skin and his hair damp, glued to his neck, it was clear he went for a night time swim in the freezing cold waters ahead— and, judging by his t-shirt thrown soaked in the sand by his side, not so long ago.

He was clearly freezing, the muscles of his back coiled and tensed, making something ferocious inside Raquel rise, wanting nothing but to wrap herself around him and handle him all the warmth she had. Even so, she held back, finding a fragility in his posture that told her he might recoil, in case she'd do so. And even though her approach hadn't been silent, at all, Sergio didn't seem to notice her presence there until she came to sit by his side, crossed legs underneath her summer dress to mimic his own, her knee coming to brush slightly at his.

At her touch, Sergio straightened suddenly as if struck by electricity, his eyes raising to her face as hers lowered, to find the whiskey glass half filled with wine he cradled between his hands.

He'd rarely drink, unless if to make her company, and something about the fact he found more comfort at the bottom of a glass tonight made her feel all sorts of angry and sad. But looking inside his eyes, stripped off his glasses for the obvious risk of losing them underwater, Raquel found how unsurprisingly sober he was, for despite knowing how this meticulous man she came to know could oddly turn unpredictable sometimes, she also knew he'd never be reckless to the point of entering the ocean drunk off his ass.

No, this… this sounded more like something she'd do, being definitely the impulsive one out of both. The thought made Raquel smile at him, soft and a little bittersweet, wishing deep down she'd muster just enough reasoning to help him cope with whatever bothered him today, exactly the way she knew he'd do for her anytime her feelings made her go a little nuts.

“I really made you a rebel with this swimming in your clothes thing, huh?” she murmurs, tilting her head to the ocean with her smile widening, teasingly “I mean, it's a little late to be freezing my butt out there, but you could've called me to join, no? I can be a little rebel too…”

“Just a little, yes, Inspectora?” Sergio's eyes crinkled as he smiled, shortly and awkwardly, his head ducking at his lap to avoid eye contact “I, well, I wasn't exactly planning on doing it, until… until I-I sort of… Was already there, water on my waist.” he gestured nervously, his hand making as if to push the glasses that weren't there back to the top of his nose “I, you see, I-I had a couple more of these before,” he lifts his glass, swirling the wine “and then I suppose the alcohol must've made me think I wanted to get rid of something very badly, for I threw it at the waves. But as soon as I saw it floating away I regretted it, and let's just say I had to dive in and fish it back on myself…” he shook his head, shyly, looking at her through his lashes with a shrug and a self-deprecating smirk “Not my finest moment, so I'm glad you weren't here to see me destroying the beauty of fully-clothed swimming so pathetically, indeed.”

Raquel's smile faded as he spoke. Frowning, not liking the look in his eyes, she forgot the space she intended on giving him and reached to grab hold of one of his hands in hers, bringing it to her lap. Immediately she realized her instinct to be right, for Sergio's cold fingers squeezed hers quite frantically, his throat bobbing as he swallowed, sort of leaning forward towards her, his eyes sparkling in the reflection the moon provided on the waves.

Oh, my love.

“Sergio, did you get rid of Andrés' watch?”

His features twitched, a grimace of shame, and he nodded “Tried.” his voice was a whisper, that he drowned inside his glass in a nervous gulp of wine. Then, he shook his head, wiping clumsily a drop of water that slid from somewhere around the bridge of his nose, then down his cheek “I-I, I don't know what the fuck I was thinking, Raquel. What damn good would've come out of getting rid of the only thing my brother has left me…” he sighed, tremulously, scoffing at himself “My father's watch, Raquel. This old contraption he had restored for me because I'd refuse putting it aside in twenty years, all of it so that I'd have it in time before the heist… so that I'd have 'a second to remind our reasons' on me, he said.” Sergio's whole face scrunched, as if some sort of physical pain cut him from the inside “Same damn thing Dad told me the day he left to die, leaving me this watch so I'd have a piece of him, and since then it's become… It's become this piece of Andrés and that bastard smile of his as well, Raquel, and now it won't probably even work anymore…” he closes his eyes shut, trembling “I-I'm such an idiot-”

“Hey.” Raquel scooted closer to him, passing her arms through his, her chin propped on his shoulder as she tilted her head backwards to meet his eyes “Only I can call my boyfriend that, you hear me?” sighing, she asked softly “Where is it?”

“Over my shirt.” Sergio nodded towards it, and Raquel turned to reach for it. Turning the simple, delicate watch she'd only seen him take off to sleep over in her hands, Raquel saw how he'd attempt to dried it, although droplets of water had inevitably leaked inside it as she tapped its glass, its hands remaining frozen, still marking the same time from about an hour ago. The engraved quote “a second to remind your reasons” shone as she ran her thumb softly over the back of it.

“We'll ask Aylin if she knows any watchmaker in the village to take a look at it later.” she tells him, turning his hand over to set the watch firmly around his wrist, back where it belonged, planting a soft kiss to his palm before resting their joined hands back over her thigh again “But even if it can't be fixed, it doesn't matter.” she entwined their fingers, squeezed his hand “I'm sure your brother wouldn't care, for he gave it to you so that you'd keep on you as a reminder of himself and your father, not as just one more gift. What matters, carinõ, is that it's become important enough for you to make you dive into the ocean at night just to retrieve it back.”

Leaning her cheek to his arm while watching him mull over her words, she felt how cold and damp his skin felt, how he'd punished himself by seating there and letting shivers consume his exposed chest until now.

“Berlim was…” Sergio shook his head, his voice cracking “Sometimes reminding him is… difficult, complicated. I kept… looking at it, today, over and over, and, I-I don't know, Raquel…” he gulped, turning the watch anxiously around his wrist “ It was hard not to replay his death over and over, I suppose, just at the sight of this. It felt simply so… revolting, unfair. Then next thing I new, I'd already launched it at the waves. And at first… at first it made me feel so damn relieved you wouldn't believe it, Raquel. So, so much.” his tone was raspy, strangled, and he squeezed her hand so firmly it hurt “Until I realised, realised… I couldn't. Shouldn't. Immediately, it was as if this stone-shaped weight settled inside me, heavying me all over, a hundred pounds over my shoulders. It made me regret, then go after after it like the moron I am, so fucking ashamed and hoping I could somehow grasp his memory back-”

“Shhhh.” Her heart ached as she attempted a smile at him, rubbing his arm up and down in attempts of lending him a little of her warmth, at least. Feeling her own eyes filling at the sight of Sergio's shining ones, Raquel cradled his face in her hands, blinking her own tears away “You don't have to feel ashamed, you hear me? It's okay for you not to want to suffer nor carry willingly reminders of your losses around, Sergio. Means you're human. Means it's normal for you to want to run away from bad, painful memories, sometimes. It's perfectly okay…”

Sergio rested his forehead to hers, eyes closed, pulling Raquel to his chest as a tremulous gasp escaped his lips. She tried to keep her eyes open and watching him, but it was proven impossible as Sergio nuzzled his nose to hers, lips brushing softly against her cheek before he buried his face into the space between her neck and shoulder, releasing what it seemed to be a lifetime held breath, warm and heartfelt, against her skin.

Her eyes drifting closed, Raquel hugged him back and let him drown his sorrow inside her arms.

Very soon this morning, soon as the sun peeked at the horizon, she'd woken up suddenly and for no apparent reason to find herself alone in their bed. Missing the usual feel of Sergio's arms wrapped around herself, she'd sat and turned around to see where he'd went, finding his familiar form observing the sunrise by himself at the beach outside. Knowing the occurrence of his nightmares and troubled sleep the past few days very well by then, for she was the one to comfort him and witness him toss and turn, calling out his brother's name in the night, Raquel assumed he needed to clear his head off but didn't want to wake her up.

Nevertheless, she went after him. And wrapped her arms around him from behind as soon as she was close enough, hands sliding to his chest as she glued herself against his back, being able to feel the deep intake of air he took as soon he felt her touch. She'd earned herself a weak smile, Sergio's larger hands finding and grasping hers thankfully as she hugged him tighter, wishing to able to send all his troubles away with something as simple as her presence, alone. Together they stood, until sun rays colored the sand by their bare feet, orange glowing and outlining their joined bodies in soft warmth.

And then Raquel pulled him back towards the house, Sergio following willingly, wrapping himself all around her in return. Soon they no longer walked, but stumbled upon their unmade bed, falling over the mattress together amidst Sergio's pouring ticklish kisses all over her neck and shoulders and Raquel's breathless, relieved laughing out loud.

Their lovemaking was rushed and intense, a frantic ripping of clothes and ablazing hands exploring exposed skin, until Sergio's hips furiously met hers, coaxing shared gasps of relief out of both. Raquel's pent up desire for his touch made her dig scratches with her nails into his back, such was her pleasure, coaxing him into moving, harder, faster, deepest as possible within every thrust inside her until they both reached a sudden, toe-curling climax almost at the same time. Collapsing above her, Sergio's arms enclosured Raquel in a warm cage in which she immediately melted, his lips pressed against the pulsing hollow of her throat as they both struggled to catch their breath. She smiled in contentment, although briefly, once she noticed how tense and still he rested inside her embrace, silent even as she drew lazy shapes over his back with her fingertips, trying to get some actual words out of his mouth to express what had tormented him so much during the night.

Then, finally, as she felt moisture where his cheek had come to rest right above her heart, Sergio breathed his confession in a harsh whisper “He'd been forty-six today.”

And without further words needed, with her heart sinking, Raquel understood. It torn her how little there was she could actually do for him, but to hug him and feel his pain and let him hold onto her, caressing his hair as his silent tears slid between her breasts.

She'd never got to meet Andrés, besides for that brief and mostly unpleasant encounter with him as Berlim back at the heist, but that morning she and Sergio both fell asleep feeling deeply for his loss at heart.

When she'd woken up again, was to the strong smell of Sergio's cologne filling her senses, once during their sleep he apparently had turned on his side and crushed her to himself at some point, entangling his limbs around her in a death grip. Raquel's face glued to his neck, for she honestly felt hotter within the second against his warm body, but soon she found out she didn't bother much, when it was clear by his slow heartbeats Sergio felt deeply comforted and at peace in their sweaty embrace. She was, in fact, just starting to doze off again, lulled by the sound of his regular breathing, when he released her a bit, clearly awake, to cradle her face in his hands and place a lingering kiss on her lips.

“Good morning.” he'd said, smiling, and with that Raquel thought— wanted to believe— his troubled thoughts had ceased tormenting him, at least for today.

And true to his best abilities of putting up a facade, Sergio managed to convince her pretty well with another kiss and the promise of having breakfast ready for her downstairs, before he'd retrieve his glasses by the nightstand and left her hugging a pillow in lieu of his body, to disappear inside their bathroom displaying a relaxed smile on his face. Through the rest of the day, he never mentioned his brother nor the sorrow he'd expressed freely in her arms that morning again.

Raquel never approached the subject either, knowing that Sergio was bound to shyness and embarrassment if pushed into expressing himself prematurely, especially when the control freak inside him reacted so poorly upon having his emotions on check. And so she went along with his good humor and set about watching him closely, instead.

She laughed along Aylin and her mother's silly conversation topics at the breakfast table while accepting the coffee mug he handled her with a quick peck on the lips, watching him with the same moved gratitude of every day as he walked around her chair to deliver Paula's plate first, a smile opening on his face as the little girl approved soundly of her chocolate chips and bunny-shaped pancakes made out of scratch. Raquel even sneaked by the old piano Sergio had pushed against a corner in their living room, later, leaning onto the instrument in silent awe to observe him coaxing her daughter's enthusiasm into actually sitting and learning a few clumsy notes under his patient guidance. Unsurprisingly, she'd almost embarrassed herself by actually tearing up once Paula eagerly started playing the song they've been practicing for about two months now, Sergio's encouraging murmurs making her little girl smile proudly, seemingly suddenly so attentively and mature Raquel wanted nothing but to hug her tightly and never let her grow up.

But, above all, Raquel felt as if she could actually weep if any of them lifted their eyes from the keys long enough to acknowledge her presence there. Because family was the only word she could think of to describe Sergio's hand on Paula's shoulder and the little girl's clear admirance upon him every time he'd smile approvingly when she'd hit the right notes— the two halves of her heart, merging together into actually loving and caring for each other right there before her eyes.

Not for the first time since she'd brought her family to live in Palawan, Raquel felt deeply thankful for Sergio's willingness into making them a part of his life as well. He was such a different man here amongst them, and little by little she saw how he'd started to reveal new sides of his personality just by interacting with them. He no longer was the Professor nor Salva to her, but Sergio instead, a junction of both personalities into this man worth so much more Raquel could see both her daughter and mother starting to discover— and falling in love— for his true self as well.

Right now, being hugged and hugging him equally fiercely back, Raquel wished their newfound love could be enough balsam to relieve the lost of his loved ones somehow. Almost as if sensing her worry, she felt Sergio's chest expand against hers as he sighed very deeply, cupping the back of her head with both hands before finally releasing her, pulling back. She found pain still there in his face, but his eyes were clear once again, albeit intense, his attention solely focused on her in a way that made Raquel's stomach flutter in unexpected butterflies.

“We should get back inside.” he whispered, his features softer, tender, his hands moving to rub her upper arms “You're starting to freeze.”

"You are the only one freezing here, Professor.” deciding they've loathed over sadness enough for today already, Raquel opened a mischievous smirk at him. Smitten, she stole his glass of wine for herself and tossed her head back, emptying it in two gulps. Licking her lips, she left it behind on the sand, very much enjoying the way Sergio's pupils dilated as he watched her, amused.

“I've learned a long time ago that the best way to warm up is being creative.” she said, then leaned in for a kiss Sergio returned so hungrily she moaned against his mouth, coaxing a frustrated groan out of him as soon as she pulled back, smiling, and giggling got to her feet “You can get your old man's ass back inside later, 'cause right now you owe me a dance, Marquina.” she offered him her hands “Moondance is still my top ten Van Morrison favorite, so if you could, you know, get yourself moving while the moon is still out, that'd be great.”

“They'll have to get this engraved on my tombstone.” Sergio shook his head, smiling “Dead by Raquel Murillo's hands. Poor man couldn't say no, they'll say.”

And he grabbed her hands, stood up, resting his own hands around her waist to nuzzle her neck, feeling finally brought out of his own head there against her, happy and alive.

“Funny. Last night it seemed I was handling you just fine, no?” Raquel whispered by his ear, putting her arms around his neck.

Sergio laughed into her hair “Oh, you've got low tactics, Inspectora. Very low.”

“Anything's fair in love and negotiation, Professor. I didn't invent that.”

“Wrong quote. Great point, though.” he whispered, then nibbled her ear, chuckling when she gasped and pushed her hips automatically against his.

“W-Why aren't we moving?” Raquel stuttered, actually a bit flushed “Dancing and standing aren't the same thing, you know.”

“Oh, I do.” Sergio took one of her hands in his, pulled her closer and pushed back to beam a smug smirk at her “I told you before I never enjoyed dancing, but I did grow up with Andrés by my side, you know. He'd coax me into waltzing him more times than I'd like to admit, and I'll let you know I happened to get very good at it, Murillo.”

He winked at her and started swaying on his feet, gently guiding her along. Unable to stop herself, Raquel smiled wide, gasping and laughing in delight as Sergio unexpectedly spun her around, bringing her breathlessly back to his chest with a laugh of his own.

“You're not so bad, I admit it.” she breathed against his ear, heartbeats happily pounding, her chin over his shoulder as she tried to catch her breath. Closing her eyes, she wished they could spend the whole night like this, blissful and lost in their own world.

“Well, I was taught well.” Sergio spun them in lazy circles, putting her messy hair behind her ear “My brother would come back from the dead just to wack me on the head if I'd embarrass myself in front of a pretty girl like you, Inspectora.”

“Pretty girl, huh?”

“Yes, very pretty. Hot, too. Naughty. And oh, so horny sometimes…”

She slapped him playfully on the chest.

“That's a good comment to reflect about on the couch, you know.”

“You think? 'Cause I think some punishing sex would teach me a better lesson-”

She silenced him with a kiss, one that escalated very quickly, up until they stopped swaying to devour each other's mouths, breathing loudly and eating one another's moans, the freezing ocean breeze ignored around them once hands caressed and burned every bit of exposed skin there was to be touched. Sergio was almost lifting off her feet when Raquel pulled back, breathlessly, resisting the need to wrap her legs around his waist.

“Let's get back inside.”

“But I thought you wanted a dance first.” Sergio murmured, showering her jaw line in languid kisses “I was starting to feel rather fond of this new dancing style, to be honest…”

“Sergio.” Raquel protested, faintly and barely audible as her eyes tended to roll every time his mouth touched her skin “Carinõ, I'd love to, but if we keep dancing with your hands wandering in this pace, soon enough both Ailyn and my mother will be able to spot my bare ass from all the way inside the house.” she wrinkled her nose, reminding a few near-misses in her teenage days “And trust me, she wouldn't let us hear the end of it anytime soon…”

“Alright, alright. Back inside.” Sergio sighed, releasing her to gather his shirt from where he'd left it in the sand and hurry back to her side so fast Raquel giggled, before he grabbed her hand and pulled them to the house “Let's go. Don't stop or make eye contact, or else they'll make questions!”

His seriousness made her laugh harder as they entered the house, Sergio pulling her behind himself like a man on a mission. They crossed the living room and went for the stairs like teenagers on a secret relationship, sneaking into the bedroom instead of out of it, while hoping the women inside the kitchen wouldn't catch them on sight. Her mother's sharp instincts, however, were not to be underestimated, and soon they heard her shout:

“Don't forget to dry yourselves, otherwise you'll catch a cold!”

Laughing at Sergio's deer on the highlights looks, Raquel called back “Don't worry, Mamá!”

As she heard Marivi's and Aylin's amused laughter downstairs, Raquel guided a flustered Sergio towards their room, thinking a cold wouldn't be a price so high to pay for all she could've expected from a dance under the moonlight with the man she loved, and more.

[idolizerp]

[ LOADING INFORMATION ON CHERRY BOMB!’S MAIN VOCAL AMOR…. ]

DETAILS

CURRENT AGE: 20 TRAINEE SINCE AGE: 18 SKILL POINTS: 22 VOCAL | 07 DANCE | 00 RAP | 11 PERFORMANCE

INTERVIEW

Coming in muted tones of ivory and lavender, yet disguising thunder in her enigmatic obsidian stare; she’s a vixen who arises as everyone’s dream girl. Cerulean sky looming above, her cheeks blossom with roseate hues, delightful and innocent, the projection of a seraph in her coffee rondures and the feminine curve of her petite nose. When she speaks, saccharine and sophisticated, sweet words spill from her parted, plump lips, light like a breath, entrancing like the opalescent wings of the fae or a tail of an alluring siren. They believe for a moment that all she appears as is a facade, too good to be true, though it’s evident to those who approach her when the spotlights of her stage are dimming behind, greedy to purloin the virgin heart resting bare behind her ribcage, that she’s real. She’s the embodiment of honeysuckle decadence and an intimidatingly, flawless energy orbiting her pellucid auras. Though, don’t confuse her sweetheart features to be all that delineates her face in melting vibrancies and soft sighs; carnality lurking in the ogling attention of her audience.

A monstrosity hides in her onyx stare, and while it’s true that her charismatic performance before enchanted fans carries offstage, her intent is always narcissistic, calculated in a manner that proves perilous to those who land under her spell or who dare to step onto the path she greedily marks as hers. She’s not a good-hearted person coming from roots of innocent intent, but no one would ever believe such atrocious remarks when her being is infused with perfection and purity, when her elegance dances away from the mic, back to the dorms, to the vacant alleys she sometimes intrudes. All her blinded paramours would utter the same: she’s a darling, charming and polite with a keen eye for detail, no roguery prevailing in sight. Adorning a voice as soft as benevolent, velveteen nights, a melody to her light steps as she twirls with a magma ambiance haunting her gaze, and a glint of a Machiavellian in those chestnut orbs; she’s everything to idolize and more.

BIOGRAPHY

I.

Panning solemnly across the universe in shades of pink and precision, glory borders nebulas and awe kisses the enthroned jewels of the sky in an eerie artistry; stars bask in the meaningless definitions pressed to their rogue outline, and they don’t question the immoral stance of it because they can’t. Though lurking on the opposite end of a systematic spectrum, collocated with demons and gods, rests a young girl in Seoul’s elite crib with caramel auras and winsome laughter, and she’s able of questioning every design heaven’s finest architects have devised. She’s got the ability to inquire it all, the whites of her eyes dimming under shadows as the horizon of dawn’s greeting is pulled by the tar sky, slumber looming over her, yet too entranced by the web of worlds she’s intrinsically strung up to sink into her soul. It’s why despite the passing hours and the contagious lull of sleep, she eases steadily aboard her twilight memories, dragging from their depths the taste of a scorching hell, drawing above her on the oak pillars a consummate design of the fate she desires. Shes of cirrus of smoke, their fashioned design of hell bearing the chance to blossom a disdainful fruit she tastes and grows addicted to. Their name is greed and they engulf all opponents like the effervescent idols painting the screen of her television and delving between the layers of her daydreams. They build a home among the many artifacts she designs, an idea sprouting, fated to come to fruition for all the wrong causes, from the impacts of cupidity that dare to steal all titles.

Giving way for flying galleys to roam her mind while tracing the pattern of constellations with her ebony gaze; her charm is weighted and intoxicated by the glare of midnights exhaustion. Mind so vast, it’s limitless, it’s the actuality she engineers a home in, deriving from the ground a foundation cozy for her momentary stay. Lilith blossoms in an unwelcoming promise, arising with its prosaic entry, the call of a deafening failure familiar to its unruly patrons and weak-minded gems. Decrepit institutes are born of the violent stance of her authority, an evanesced honor defused in the perspicuous instructions from the dark. Time is still young on the life that spans before her, and she’s yet to understand that the fading hue of aureate twinkles is not because she’s succumbing to the inevitable and mundane act of sleeping, but because they’re drawing further away.  

Those dainty dreams leave her in a fit of pique as she nears the age where imagination becomes insanity, tearing through her viscera with countless butterflies; fluttering wings drilling on at a nauseating velocity, making her twin stars see nothing but a grey haze. It was a menial job for fate to conclude due to the faint carvings those hopes had been inscribed upon; passion having barely begun before it tittered away in a maniacal morning, leaving her under twilight forever with no stars to chase. Fingers dizzyingly point to the speckled ceiling above, their ambiance having dulled over the years as the fault lines of her reality continue to threateningly reverberate. An impending destruction is promised, though her barren mind refuses to be incarcerated by its rising fear through the act of pitiful submission. She remains hard-headed despite the obvious decline of destiny’s support in her race to an overtly joyous life, her fingers still curled around the ending tendrils of her childhood fascinations. There are no more prayers to be heard, and in between the sapphire shades of her bedding and the indigo atmosphere peering through her blinds, a thunderous confession sets fire to it all at last. Her mother bore a child of ill fortune that’s cursed to a fate of pride and inundated by faux beauty. The carcass of a doll, a raven in a caged cell, a glimmer of obsidian lurking behind lilac; these are what will define her waking moments, the pressing chill of an end to her spine, the poised perfection of her eternal artistry tainted with the viridian tones of a damning drive. Her mothers made a monster shielded behind ivory, yet she doesn’t even notice.

She’s hardly approached the marmalade dawn of her birthday before chaos invites itself into her heart, and her parent’s facade slips, their agony rushing forth, their infidelity drawing bold in shades of crimson and azure, of ash and salt. The making of a wilted daffodil is set into play. Delicate fault lines shift with the silent shudder of wings and her universe slips through her nimble fingers; lithe figure plunging between the crevices her parent’s finality has created. She falls through their horrors, and nothing but a distant cry is heard by the howling winds of an incoming east wind. This end plucks her from her childhood fantasies and sets the corruption of her innocent beliefs into motion. Greed comes faintly before it sets strong, and envy lights as a horrid enigma in the pit of her bare stomach; her taste for greatness is still the same, but her cravings have dulled into a wicked notion. She’ll do anything to make herself worthy. 

II.

They reside in silence; two ghosts meeting only for the bare necessities of decisive measures, otherwise shifting away in their isolation, a lacking regard for their teenage daughter whose dimmed wishes of settling a spot in the limelight still keep her motivated enough. Her arduous efforts will not disperse themselves into a faltering design of failure, though she’s learned by now to slim her fantasies into mere inches and keep them concise. It’s the fault of her parent’s lascivious habits, their concupiscent minds that yearn after the catering service of other men and women who can please them better than the riveting drama cooking up in their home. It’s the fault of the galactic designs spread countlessly across her bedroom ceiling that made her believe hope was a force no evil could reckon with or penetrate through to spoil. She’s always surmised fallacious fairytales quite easily, and now it taunts her with half-hearted dreams and a soured look curled in the almond orbs of her reflection; harnessing a heated hellfire through the glares of rebellion; blithe disdain towards the realm she resides in. 

Her presentation, the light rubescent facade, remains consistently immaculate in its design through the years, and it’s an astonishing miracle despite the disrupted haven she’d blossomed in. Alabaster soul slowly beginning to be decorated in variegated colours of plum and prune, the advancing devilish corruption fading into her marks as a permanent scar; sins swiftly settling atop her skeleton, shaping her further into a porcelain shell. Something else is born in the seconds of her unfurling hesitations. She turns disgraceful appellations onto herself and lets the foreshadowing of fates planned demise take control of the concluding hours of her virtue. Through the jagged edges of her violent quotes, she finds her negativity fuelling her drive, a dark matter she once swore to never touch now intertwining with the lines on her palm and sinking beneath the smooth flesh. They have yet to discover the toxic tinge adorning her loose posture, or the shine of Persephone resting elegantly in the shadow of her desirable silhouette, painted black, shaped delightfully, swaying in music like wisteria in wind. She’s yet to recognize the difference in her own constellation, still too focused on her languid movements and the need to hone her silver voice into gold to realize the patterns of destruction weaving through her inky mind. She flourishes into the reincarnation of Lady Macbeth, and the entire world rests under the looks of the ill-fortuned king her selfish intents will slay. 

The grip of a stubborn destiny finally sets loose when a few abortive attempts later she’s allotted a position to settle her score with fate’s tenuous war on her piteous dreams. It hardly comes easy, scintillating stares setting her nerves on fire, judging her third audition with the breach of a galaxy swarming above, ready to cave downwards and consume her candor mind once more. They seem to notice, at last, the undying command nestled in her determined ellipses; the former rejections never ceasing her will. It seems like an apology the world has bestowed upon the curve of her heart when she steps forth to be charmed by the Midas touch and turned to gold, rewarded for her passionate pursuit, but adversity always lays mere steps ahead. It’s a familiar companion; singing to her old lullabies, striking her with a toxic comfort she’s grown to embrace, dwelling evermore in its russet tint. Calloused inches of her ignite from the dry bouts of a feverish competition while she makes her mark in a practiced indication, certain to call some impressed remarks. No longer locked in blissful reveries, or losing her attention to their starry essence, she still remains susceptible to the death of her last schemes for success, and it comes in the manifestation of an erstwhile rival. Hypnotic stare and she’s crowned congeniality, her cordial mannerisms, dainty aura and striking vocals taking her far until she’s dragged herself atop the final pedestal after three years of brutality. Nails red and raw, sweat lining her dismayed features.

She debuts in 2016, hardly an ounce of excitement buried in her onyx orbs. The once enigmatic fury burning in her bosom, threatening to burst due to the multitude of desires she couldn’t contain, were now left vacant, lock and key destroyed and all her earnings robbed. The glare of moonlight perches itself through strands of her midnight hair, and she’s left operating clandestine plans in the desperate efforts to maintain what she’s received, to keep the balance of it all steady. The kiss of fate was never meant to strike perilous at all, perhaps through its numerous hurdles, it was devising for her a sign that she could decipher when glancing upon the heavens another faithful night. Perhaps through the numerous turbulences, all it was wishing to promise her was safety from the net of fame and the destructive construction of the fatal industry. In conclusion, all that the world wanted to do was to save her from her own rapturous claws before she plunged too deep into the design of her fairytale fantasies. Give her an awakening where she sought after a truth beyond the stretch of idol enchantment. To gaze into the sordid expressions resting in her childhood bedroom where innocence wasn’t granted security and she shifted from wide orbs of undying curiosity into narrowed gazes of vehement hostility. 

Now pressed to the core of hell, it’s far too late, and her nectarous purity continues to bleed her desolate. 

[karma-khaos]

Rough draft to my short film.

Fade in:

 EXT. Driveway- Dusk

GARRET, American mutt, mid 20’s, revels in dark humor, nihilistic commentary, and self-destructive behavior, refuses to cope with pain in a healthy manor, preferring to charge into impulse decisions with reckless abandon. Smalls sparks of his previous “happy” life style are quickly over cast by self-proclaimed pathetic despair. Dark when he doesn’t want to be, desperately wants this chapter to end.

[GARRET is walking up his drive way as he answers a phone call from his friend JOHN asking about the party.]

J: So dude, did you end up hooking up with that girl the other night at the party?

G:What girl? You know I never remember anything from nights like that.

J: That dime piece in the little black dress that was basically eye fucking you all night.

G:yea, not ringing any bells man, I honestly don’t know why you even bother asking my shit like this at this point.

J: Nah, you’d remember her, that girl was like a goddess.

“well im flattered, but goddess seems like a bit much.”

[As GARRET enters his room he see a beautiful girl sitting on his bed]

G: uh John, what exactly did that dime piece look like again?

[JOHN proceed to describe the girl sitting on GARRETS bed perfectly]

G: yeah, I got to go man, somthings popped up.

S:It’s Sam in case you forgot, obviously your little fuckboy friend did.

G: Um, what are you doing in my room?

S: I’m hurt. But if you need a reminder Garret, I’m here to help you end it all.

G: uh huh, ok yup. Look sweetie you got the wrong craigslist ad but it’s all good, I’m sure this shit happens all the time, so just let me get the door for you aanndd…

[as Garret turns around to get to open the door to his bedroom Sam suddenly appears in front of him]

G: woah what the fuck?!

S: You might not remember it but I’m here to help you end aaalll your suffering because you’re the one begging for it.

G: ok, ignoring whatever the hell just happened you’ve still got to have the wrong guy, you’re making it sound like I just wanna blow my brains out and I’m not interested.

S: oh poor baby.You might not be deepthroating the barrel of that little revolver you have buried in your sock drawer, but with the habits you’ve picked up the past few months…you’ve done nothing but cry for help. Just look at the damage you’ve put your body through.

All the drugs…

[Flashback to montage of GARRET doing various drugs]

Taking anything and everything  people offer you just try and pick yourself up out of a whole you dug self into. You start rolling away and dive head first into self-destruction, and for what? When it’s 4am, and your all alone high as kite driving the streets she’s never going to invite back over to vent on her front steps again.

[GARRET has a subtle hint of pure shock on his face, just trying to process details to memories he thought he didn’t have anymore.]

All the drinking…

[Flashback to montage of GARRET binge drinking]

Your poor liver. It’s only been maybe 6 months but I doubt your BAC has come down to a legal limit once has it?

Your friends…or at least the ones you have left must think you’re one of those real cultured hipsters with all you know about liquor.

But we know the truth, don’t we?

The only reason you know so much by now is because nothing works forever.

The rum won’t get you through the day anymore, the whiskey won’t help you sleep, and all your stories with tequila don’t end so cathartic, do they?

So now you just try to forget. By any means you can, you just drink and drink till every night’s a black out and every sunrise has to be met at the bottom of a bottle because alcohol poisoning sounds more appealing than facing your fucking problems.

[GARRET sits down on the bed, now visibly unable to comprehend how someone he thought was a stranger knows so much about him.]

[SAM seductively walks over to the bed, clearly with motive, mounts on top of GARRET and begins to whisper into his ear]

And the women…

[Flashback to montage of GARRET bringing different women back to his bed, like the way SAM is taking GARRET now.]

You can’t fill the void she left in you by filling up every girl with pretty face that smiles your way.

What was your plan?

Was fucking your friends supposed to make you feel better?

Was fucking HER friends supposed to make you feel better?

All the random little trollops you’ve found weren’t going to magically replace her.

But I suppose I can’t blame you, with a dick like that I can’t imagine id do things any differently;)

[GARRET pushes SAM off of him and gets up off the bed to finally confront her]

G: Alright that’s enough! I get it! I’m fucking bastard. And you clearly get that I’m a obvious mess too, so what the hell do you want?

S: I told you baby, I’m here to end all this pain you’ve been feeling.

[SAM’s eyes suddenly turn pitch black]

You see Garret, you swipe right enough on tinder and eventually you run into a girl like me. All I want is fulfill every fantasy you can imagine so that for a night you can forget all about your pain.

G:yea well you sound like a robot on tinder.

S: Perhaps, but I’m the real deal.

G: the real deal comes with a catch, so what is it.

S: No catch here, it’s a win/win.

G: Bullshit.

S: You get to have me; however you want for whole night and then a few days later I end all your pain. Then I move on to the next one, win/win.

G: stop being so vague and just fucking tell me!

[SAM erupts, cracks form around her eyes and mouth, manicured nails transform into talons]

S: I’m here for your soul you ignorant little heathen!

[GARRET now terrified on the floor in front of SAM]

G: Then….the why are we even having this conversation? Why didn’t you just kill me when I walked in?

[SAM now attempting to calm down]

S: Because, your different.

I’ve done this so many times and it always plays out the same way.

I look for the heart broken man, their the easiest prey.

They tell me their sob stories, I brighten their miserable lives for a night, and then I come back a few days later to simply take what they no longer value. Their soul.

And most of the time it’s not hard because they’re usually begging me to come back.

But you, oooohhh you. You’re an anomaly I just can’t get out of my head.

Sure there are men that hurt than you,

but your despair is like an intoxicating cologne I can’t escape.

The regret I taste on you is something I can’t resist.

The air around you is dark but greets me with a warm embrace.

Your pain excites me to no end,

But it’s this faint, awkward little glimmer of hope you don’t let anyone see that really gets me.

You force yourself to suffer with every moment you get to yourself, every time you picture her face.

But you don’t want her back.

G: I just want better for her…

S: But why?!

I can’t count on 1 hand how many women I can thing of who deserve a man like that and yet her you are just throwing it at her every day.

She only showed you compassion when it was convenient,

She was emotionally distant,

She was just using you for sex because, and I quote “You’re the only one who knows how to fuck me right.”

And to top it all off she cheated on you.

G: Yeah, and my emotionally wrecked response to that is really what ended that relationship.

S: A relationship she didn’t deserve!

Look, im supposed to come back here and just suck the life right out of you and move on.

But I want to offer you a deal instead.

Be mine,

Show me the endless passion you’ve shown this girl.

And I’ll help you forget.

The pain is like a scar and it never truly fades but I can make you forget her name,

Let you move on.

[GARRET stands to his feet and lets the choice weigh on him]

G: So all I have to do to keep my life, and spend the rest of eternity fulfilling all my fantasies with a smoking hot demon is let you make me forget her?

S: that’s right, anything you want.

G: well in that case,my answer is…..

No.

[SAM recoils from GARRET’s response]

S: are you fucking insane?!

G: yeah obviously.

S:This isn’t some indie art house short film!

You don’t get some magic award for being the most depressing, self-destructive glass cannon in the room!

G:This is simply who I am, and I’m tired of making decisions based on what other people think I am.

You’ve painted me in a dark and pathetic light But you need to get your fucking fakes straight.

I’m not some broken little play thing that needs to be rescued and fixed.

I may not have made the right choices to cope with my problems but they we’re still MY choices and I CHOOSE to live with them.

So you can take your offer and shove it up your ass.

[SAM licking her lips now]

S: MMmmmm, I would have let you do it had you chosen differently.

[SAM grabs GARRET by the throat, suspending him up against the wall]

What a shame, the good ones always make the worst decisions.

[GARRET smirks, as if somehow, he’s one a battle with his inner demons.  Camera fades to black as SAM’s claws swing toward GARRET’s throat.]