10 posts in this topic

oOo5rcG.gif I FAKE IT SO REAL, I A M BEYOND FAKE
New Year's had been a total bust for the irresistible Jessica Taylor, despite the grand nature of the event she had managed to throw together. Spending hours solely trying to entertain herself with constant dancing, playful flirting, and nonstop drinking, it proved to be a fruitless task for the young socialite as the night went on. As a result, she quickly grew tired of the fruitless endeavor, unable to find a way to make things work for her tastes. Her complete and utter boredom almost forced her to go back to darker times in her life, though Jess knew better, especially in such a public setting as tonight. All eyes were on her, even if she wanted them or not, including those of her intimidating lover. He didn't like it when she got high, and she didn't want to upset him. Sitting alone in the luxurious lobby of the rented out hotel, she takes a small sip from her bubbly champagne, watching with disinterested eyes as guests began to slowly trickle out. Occasionally waving goodbye or flashing a warm smile to her 'friends', she mostly keeps her attention on the growing sea of bodies that shuffle out the doors, never looking up unless she was approached.

As the last of the attendees make their way out, Jessica rises from her seat, grateful that the night's events had finally come to an end. Brushing off her glittering silver gown, she carefully walks over to the front desk, sweeping her flowing brown locks behind her bare shoulder. Setting her now empty crystal glass on the marble counter, she lets out a sigh of relief. Meeting the dull and wrinkled eyes of the uptight hotel manager, Jess flashes him a provocative smile, her glossy lips catching the warm light of the dimly lit room. "Thank you for having us tonight. I'll make sure the cleaning crew leaves the ballroom better than we found it." Adjusting the older man's tie, she finishes her final statement with a purr. "I'll be sure to leave a good word with Mr. White about the evening's events. Expect us back real soon." Perking up, he thankfully nods at the young woman, helping her into her white fur as she heads toward the exit. Gracefully making her way to the front of the hotel, she waves the man off, prepared to return home for the night.

Meeting the cool Olympian air with reluctance, Jessica finds herself in a world far more familiar to her: one of cold and bitter loneliness. Clinging onto her fur for warmth, she solemnly makes her way down the luxurious roads of Ida Hills, which gradually transition into the deep and dark recesses of Erebus Square. Her extravagant attire attracts the leering eyes of many, inciting fear within the young woman despite the familiarity of the road. This wasn't the first such trip for her, and wouldn't be the last either. Up until now, no one had made a move on her, tried to strip her bare of the many riches she sported, though that fear always lingered in the back of her mind. Just as her anxiety was soaring to neurotic levels, she suddenly arrives at her usual spot in the concrete jungle, bright yellow vehicles speeding all around her. Taking a deep breath, she struggles to flag one of them down, many of the beaten taxis already carrying inebriated passengers back to their homes. Walking up and down the lonely sidewalks, she almost laughs in relief as a vehicle comes to a halt. Running to its side, she thankfully reaches for the door handle, only to come into contact with a hand similar to her own. Looking up, she meets the eyes of a young woman, who also seems eager to escape the unsettling night. Frowning in disappointment, she shoots the girl a friendly smile, pulling her hand away. "I'm sorry. I thought I managed to flag him down."
MONTY
@Mariah.
4 people like this

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
oOo5rcG.gif And some day, you will a che like I a che
Her search for early morning relief had come like a bolt of lightning, but it was all too brief and immediately brought forth the plague of regret. It were fact that August was an ardent, generous and soft lover, focused primarily on Emma's pleasure and climax. But she ultimately remained unsatisfied by the sexual liaison they shared, her mind captured relentlessly by the rugged, ocean blue-eyed Bobby the entire time. 'God, he had to have known I was using him,' she thought to herself of August. His performance, she believed, projected a passionate, determined man, driving while fighting for control of the wheel. A man trying to outperform whatever fantasy was woven through the mind of his opposite. It was for this reason that she held a rare penitence, normally thinking little of her single night affairs and feeling satisfaction as long as that satisfaction manifested itself through her anatomy. But August proved different. And he deserved someone who was willing to give back everything he gave to them.

"Thank you for an amazing time, August. Take care."

With a parting kiss stamped onto her boyish distraction, a disheveled Emma disappears out his apartment, hoping to be forgotten... hoping she herself could forget her hunger—her lust—erupting in the wrong hands. Met outdoor by a forceful gust as she marched along her walk of shame, she'd gracefully raise an arm to hail an oncoming taxicab, her satiny, golden curls dancing in grand jetés and pirouettes through the whistling wind. She steps toward the door and reaches out for the handle, when a gentle touch meets her skin, and a purring, low pitched voice hums through her ear.

"No need to apologize, doll," Emma sings back. "I might've just been too anxious." She gulps before continuing her reply to the woman, finding herself intimidated by the statuesque, poise beauty that revealed itself beneath the faint moonlight. Her eyes were piercing, her bones were sharp and her lips were full, painted red, with a subtle, shiny finish like a candy apple. "Um, you can go ahead. I'm not in any particular rush. I'll just use a payphone to call another since my cell phone just died."
MONTY
@Queen of Hens
4 people like this

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
oOo5rcG.gif I FAKE IT SO REAL, I A M BEYOND FAKE
Taking a better look at the stranger, she pauses before she responds; there was a faint familiarity to the young woman, though Jessica was almost sure they had just now met. Whether it was the darkness of the night or the dim nature of the streetlights, Jess was almost confident that the two had spoken before, her honey brown eyes and golden locks only adding to the unforgettable nature of her face. The girl was stunning and seemed rather friendly, qualities she didn't usually forget when she noticed them. Shrugging it off, Jessica shakes her head in disapproval, not wanting to leave her out here so late at night. Though she couldn't see them, she knew of the dangers that lurked in the shadows of the city, especially for a woman as young and as pretty as her. "I can't do let you that.She calmly protests, smiling at her with gratitude. "You shouldn't be out this late at night on your own." Turning towards the disgruntled taxi driver, Jessica pulls the cab door open, drawing her glittering clutch from her jacket and into her delicate hands.

"Think you can take us home? It's a little late for either one of us to stay and wait for another cab." Sensing annoyance from him at her request, Jessica lets out a faint sigh, looking at him with pleading eyes. "Please? I'll pay double if you have to drive too far." Responding with a slight grumble that she could only assume meant approval, Jess nods in appreciation, then turns to the young woman from before. "Don't mind riding together, do ya? I'll pay. That way neither of us has to stay here and wait." She offers, signaling towards the yellow vehicle that waited for them to take a seat.
 
MONTY
@Mariah.
4 people like this

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
oOo5rcG.gif And some day, you will a che like I a che
Emma presents gratitude toward the gesture, however she wasn't certain she could allow the stranger to go forward with the virtuous deed. Part of her reasoning was deeply rooted in pride—the young mother was accustomed to fending for herself and her own. But a large portion of her reluctance was due to the guard that stood firm, particularly when it came to developing friendships with other women; all of which stems back to her past with her mother. It was a relationship in which the pitch black clouds would continue to cast dark shadows over every figure that would drift into Emma's life. Each memory was terrifyingly haunting: the contemptuous, envious stares... the drunken, vicious words... the painful, physical blows.

But there was a warmth in this woman's bright blue eyes, like a sun beaming across a summer's sky. "Look, I-" Emma begins to argue, when obnoxious, intoxicated male passerbys call out toward the bombshell blonde, interrupting her train of thought with their warbling catcalls and vague statements of recognition from the gentlemen's club. Its then her frame of mind would firmly take new shape. 

"You have to at least let me pay for half," she'd mention before observing the woman's lavish attire, thereafter adding to her plea. "Not that you need me to, it looks like. But it's only fair."
MONTY
@Queen of Hens
4 people like this

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
oOo5rcG.gif I FAKE IT SO REAL, I A M BEYOND FAKE
Glaring at the unwanted tormentors as they pass, she pays no attention to their gross remarks towards the young woman standing before her. It was nothing but drunken nonsense as far as Jessica was concerned. Blocking the girl's view of them, she lets out a slight cheer when she hears her timid response. "Please, I insist,She kindly offers, ready to leave such 'pleasant' company behind. If they stayed any longer, she was sure the inebriated men would try to make a move on the clearly uncomfortable stranger. Those were the perks of commuting in the seedier parts of Olympia: the most toxic of the masculine sex liked to linger about. She was lucky she wasn't alone. "It's the least I can do for you as the only other woman on this block." Beaming once she gets a nod in response, Jessica opens the door for the pair, letting her in before she enters herself. Rolling down the window of the cab, she suddenly flips off the group with her perfectly manicured hand, maintaining her usual state of grace despite the vulgarity of the gesture.

"What a bunch of assholes." She giggles, pulling her hand back into the vehicle once the assortment of low-lives was behind them. "You would think they had never seen a woman before." Running a smooth hand along the skirt of her dress, she looks up curiously. "Where are you heading?" Jess asks, starting to remove some of the heavier jewelry she was wearing. This was probably her favorite part of the night: simply dressing down after maintaining an impossibly restricting image for hours on end. It was completely and absolutely exhausting, though one of the few constants in her life. How long she would be able to keep it up was up to no one but herself.
 
MONTY
@Mariah.
3 people like this

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
oOo5rcG.gif And some day, y ou will a che like I a che
Disheveled in contrast to the woman's appearance, by way of her late night exploits, Emma re-applies her lip gloss and toils with her hair to stay at pace with the brunette. The characteristically confident blonde vixen appeared to have tapped into an insecurity she ne'er felt, but the heart of the matter was that preconceived notions were standard of this town. Judgments which threatened to limit not only her own life, but the life of her baby boy back home. Or perhaps the immediate stress of her move was forcing her to read far too much into a one off carpool and the drunken males thinking she was an easy catch. "Home," she replies to the query, a titter seasoned beneath her breath in reaction to her unspoken thoughts. "Oh shit, sorry, you need an address. I'm such an airhead. Just about nine blocks up: 765 West 5th Street. Though if I'm being honest, anywhere but here would be awesome. I'm totally exhausted with boys for the night." 

She glances toward the driver up front, making eye contact through the rear view mirror and allowing her natural coquettish personality sparkle from the dark of night. "Except you of course, Mr. Taxi Driver!"
MONTY
@Queen of Hens
3 people like this

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
oOo5rcG.gif I FAKE IT SO REAL, I A M BEYOND FAKE
Nodding in agreement to the blonde's remarks, Jess stifles a laugh as the taxi driver looks back in confusion. Returning to her usual routine of winding down, she perks up when she hears the familiar address. "Oh? I think we were destined to ride in the same cab then,She starts, sensing some discomfort from her late night companion. In most situations, Jessica would revel in the intimidation she created in others, but something about this seemingly lost stranger softened her. Gone was the typically icy and stoic socialite; for the moment, she was dropping her guard, being genuinely kind and curious, looking to possibly make a new friend, a real friend. Lord knew she didn't have many.

Maybe she reminded Jess of who she was when she first arrived; pretty but alone. Confident yet vulnerable, with no real sense of direction. For some reason, she wanted to push her in the right direction, something no one bothered to do with her when she moved to Olympia. Everything she had accomplished since arriving had been done all on her own. "That's where I'm heading! I haven't seen you in the building before. Are you new to town?" Jessica continues, shifting her attention to the woman sitting next to her. Quickly analyzing her, she tries to make out who she could possibly be in a sea of possibilities. Despite how pretty she was, her clothes didn't scream high society. Her blonde locks, though rich and full of life, weren't exactly well-treated. Her face may have been made up, but it was definitely more subtle than Jess' current look. Could she be a dancer? Maybe an aspiring actress? "My name's Jessica by the way." She finishes, definitely curious about whether the stranger would open up to Jess or not.
 
MONTY
@Mariah.
3 people like this

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
oOo5rcG.gif And some day, y ou will a che like I a che
"Emma," she reveals placidly, soothed by Jessica's spirit, like lotion upon her cold skin. It was all instant. A natural connection and comfort being formed. The kind of comfort she had yet to face since arriving to town, save for earlier in the night with enigmatic bad boy Bobby. "And yeah, I am new here. From Seattle. I came out for school with my—" her voice goes hush before she mistakenly reveals her truth, the guard she maintained almost being forced open by how easily the two seemed to mold to one another. But in brief reflection, she realized her secretiveness to protect Lucas was starting to feel like shame...

Shame where there was no shame.

Lucas was her pride and joy; her light, her water, her air, her being. And if she looked to build genuine friendships—bonds to help ease from her loneliness and distrust—she had to be honest and put faith in those around her, as well as put faith in her ability to protect Lucas without hiding him from the cruel world.

She gulps once, then continues to confess, her eyes shifting out her window to avoid direct contact before returning to match Jessica's stare, thereafter projecting the pride and joy she held.

"I came out here with my five year old son. Just the two of us."
MONTY
@Queen of Hens
3 people like this

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
oOo5rcG.gif I FAKE IT SO REAL, I A M BEYOND FAKE
Jessica's immediate reaction to the revelation is one of undeniable surprise, though she hides it well with a warm and welcoming smile. Meeting Emma's timid gaze, she could sense that it had taken her new acquaintance a notable amount of effort to reveal this much about herself. Jess understood why that may have been the case; Emma was rather young, and she was still going to school, so having a child would almost be an inconvenience from Jessica's perspective. But watching as her eyes lit up mentioning her son convinced Jess otherwise, doing away with any judgement she may have had of her beforehand. Looking out to the brightly lit skyline as the driver speeds down Olympia's busy roads, she leans back in her seat as she speaks. "That's pretty awesome Emma. I'm sure that little rascal of yours is proud of everything you're doing right now.She quickly replies, having removed the last of her jewelry. She meant what she said in that moment, though it was almost uncharacteristic of her. Jess had tried the school thing before and it had been a little too much for her; she could only imagine how difficult raising a child made it as well.

Shutting her eyes to rest them for a moment, Jessica decides to open up to Emma as well. She found that this back and forth really helped people get to know each other, and she hadn't had much in the way of genuine interaction since arriving to Olympia. There was something about this girl that Jessica really liked, though she couldn't exactly pinpoint what it was. "I wish I could've finished school. Life just got to be a little much for me." Jess starts, toying with a strand of her hair to keep herself from dozing off. "Now I just dance and think about all the what-ifs." Laughing at herself for a moment, she suddenly sees just how disappointing her life had become. Trying to keep herself from falling deeper into her late night thoughts, she flashes Emma a toothy grin before pondering too long on the static nature of her existence. "Sounds like a lot of work though. Do you do anything else?"   
 
MONTY
@Mariah.
2 people like this

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites
oOo5rcG.gif And some day, y ou will a che like I a che
"Well," Emma titters, no longer wary of whether or not her stream of confessions were flowing into an ocean of oversharing. Any notion that this stunning, well-spoken, graceful and poised woman would cast judgement had dissipated with the curl of her plump red lips. She could just intuit that the mask worn by many a Olympia native had been wiped away. That to her side was another human being, made of flesh and bone, not plastic; just as raw, vulnerable and lost as she felt herself to be. A human with scars, just like her own—all of which made her all the more beautiful. And God knows that was a tall order. There they sat, stripping to reveal the markings set permanently in place by life itself. And she'd continue to put her pen to paper, telling Jessica the depth of her story and the history behind each claimed marking.

"I dance too, actually. Been doing it ever since my cunt of an 'ex' mother forced me into it as a child doing all these ridiculous pageants. Now I work at that strip club Sirens... or 'gentlemen's' club so they claim. Just started there, literally. It's honestly the easiest way I could think of to pay for school and provide for my baby boy. But it's also... freeing, in a weird way. Especially considering all that I've been through and the ways I've been objectified. I feel like I have more control over my body and sexuality." She combs back her rich, exuberant locks, then sinks deeper into her seat, trying herself not to succumb to sleep, though her body slowly drains following the night's excitement. Unraveling into repose, she allows her head to delicately fall onto Jessica's shoulder, but quickly shifts herself back into an erect position. "God, I really hate being like this. I promise I'm not this self-centered, babe. Here," she'd refrain, turning her body so it harmonizes with her willingness to be as much of a confidante as Jessica was open to portraying. "I'll let you take center stage now. Let's start with the fact that I'm curious about what took you off your path with school and stuff. Especially since it definitely seems like you're financially well off, so that couldn't have been an issue. Of course you don't have to share if you don't want to." 
MONTY
@Queen of Hens
1 person likes this

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Create an account or sign in to comment

You need to be a member in order to leave a comment

Create an account

Sign up for a new account in our community. It's easy!


Register a new account

Sign in

Already have an account? Sign in here.


Sign In Now

  • Recently Browsing   0 members

    No registered users viewing this page.

  • Similar Content

    • Crash Into Me [M]
      By Mariah.
      .intoforest { position: relative; margin: 20px auto 0px; background: #191919; height: auto; padding: 40px; width: 400px; min-height: 300px; } .intoforest img { position: absolute; height: 250px; width: 480px; object-fit: cover; left: 0px; top: 0px; filter: grayscale(0%) contrast(75%); } .ifoutline { position: relative; min-height: 220px; width: 320px; border: 1px solid #d3e0e5; } .intoforest text { display: block; position: relative; color: #e7e7e7; padding: 30px; margin-top: 210px; text-align: justify; font-size: 12px; line-height: 180%; font-family: roboto; padding-bottom: 20px; } .intoforest lyrics { position: absolute; color: #d3e0e5; font-family: overpass; text-transform: uppercase; font-weight: 800; font-size: 10px; letter-spacing: 10px; width: 150px; line-height: 200%; padding: 20px; } YOU COME CRASH INTO ME... A ND I COME INTO Y OU As the clock turns past midnight, heralding New Year's Day, so would beckon club Sirens' new 'Angel' to a quietly awestruck sea of patrons, waiting and watching on with bated breath amidst the shipwreck inspired decor. Illuminated by the faint glow of the bulbs tracing her backstage vanity, Emma De Angelo runs a brush dipped in frosty pale eye shadow across her primed lids, framing her rich honey brown tints. Her eyes were two portraits, painting in broad but detailed strokes the allure of a woman filled with unbridled lust, longing, fire and passion, but hiding a cynicism for the world she now inhabits. She knew, in great detail, that this life could be cruel. However, she refused to allow herself to fall prey. She since thrust herself into the role of a lioness, if not primarily for her cub, whom was gently laid to rest at home with a trusted caregiver. Her role was a protector and a provider. And in order to protect and provide, she had to dedicate herself to this new craft, built around her beauty—a craft she initially rejected, but has come to value and take pride in... for it gives her strength and power.

      The echo of her assigned song soaks through the walls of the backstage area; its beat pulsing and throbbing like a vigorous, lecherous heart. But the sound is muffled as she nervously takes one last look at her maternal motivation, pictured with her at the beach. Removing the photo from her vanity, she tucks it into her make up bag. Thereafter, she slowly makes her way to the stage on transparent platform 'pleaser' stilettos, with a deep sigh and cleared mind, preparing herself for night two of her new life.

      The bold, vibrant neon hues bleed over Emma De Angelo's dewy, radiant skin like watercolors, as she leisurely strides from behind the curtain onto the Sirens tribune. To the slow, grinding, steady beat, she sways her hips, each curve of her tantalizing, sultry body drawing peaks and valleys, delicately crafted by nature. Her sensuous physique remains guarded by lacy, white lingerie, like a gate barricading the path to a heaven, the patrons in a rapture and feeling their consciousness exit from their bodies through parted lips, in thick but silent heaves. She was a marvel—a sight not seen before, so desirable it'd implicate sin contrary to her angelic costume. And the heat emitting from their agape mouths ignite her, setting loose all inhibitions. With white feathers cascading around her, she serpentines one silken leg around the frosty steel pole, her immaculate feminine figure becoming a ribbon which entwines itself in a spell-binding acrobatic display. Then, with one more turn, she's unable to avoid locking leers with an arriving man and his friend, both foreign to her. His jaw is cut from marble, and his rippling muscles suffocate against his skin tight, black long sleeve shirt, screaming to be freed for air. His ocean blue irises appear satiating in its casing; an aphrodisiac which drives an insatiable hunger, so sudden in its arrival. He was a vision of ecstasy, like herself to the onlookers. He was a temptation.

      Emma's brows furrow and eyes tighten with projected desire, intensely climaxing with each progressive chord of the song which steadily took hold of her... but the stranger looks away, as though the tension was becoming too much to surmount. She makes slow catlike movements across the stage, closing the distance between the man and herself, then begins to christen a new rod of metal while removing her corset to uncage her lush, ample bosoms. Her nipples stand erect before she swivels once more, the tumescent skin of one of them edging against the cold, shiny pole. Its cool sensation force chills to rush over her body, leading a trail down her abdomen, to the ripened meeting place of her two thighs—the reveal of which she teases with the waist band of her panties, beneath her garter.

      She slinks to the stage floor and lays on her back, writhing to the rhythm and caressing her flesh erotically, before whipping herself over on her torso. Slowly, she bends into the position of a feline, the small of her back arched inward and her round, tight ass pointed high, as the diaphanous fabric veiling her treasure burrows deep between each satiny cheek. It's then the man returns to stare upon her with a subtly inviting smirk, aligned beneath his look of hypnosis which unites with a gaze of her own. MONTY   @Maxim
    • The Chemicals Between Us
      By Mariah.
      .intoforest { position: relative; margin: 20px auto 0px; background: #191919; height: auto; padding: 40px; width: 400px; min-height: 300px; } .intoforest img { position: absolute; height: 250px; width: 480px; object-fit: cover; left: 0px; top: 0px; filter: grayscale(0%) contrast(75%); } .ifoutline { position: relative; min-height: 220px; width: 320px; border: 1px solid #d3e0e5; } .intoforest text { display: block; position: relative; color: #e7e7e7; padding: 30px; margin-top: 210px; text-align: justify; font-size: 12px; line-height: 180%; font-family: roboto; padding-bottom: 20px; } .intoforest lyrics { position: absolute; color: #d3e0e5; font-family: overpass; text-transform: uppercase; font-weight: 800; font-size: 9px; letter-spacing: 9px; width: 200px; line-height: 200%; padding: 20px; } THE CHEMICALS BETWEEN US, THE WALLS THAT LIE BETWEEN US A wide array of boxes act as bricks forming a second set of walls, standing tall around an exhausted Emma De Angelo. Dressed in low-rise, cut off short shorts and a white midriff bearing blouse, tied above her belly ring and over her ample breasts, she stares out her large, paneled window, down to the city below. Cars race by in bold patterns, filled with strangers with seemingly no real purpose—nothing to live for beyond their excess. But her purpose for living sat joyously behind her; no care in the world, and lacking the knowledge of how cruel it could be. It was he: Lucas De Angelo, her one true love.

      She’d never allow Lucas to see the world for what it truly was, for as long as she could. She was his protector; his provider. But there were times that she longed for help. Someone who loved her five year old and was willing to protect him as much as she was. Someone to help ease the load she felt weighing down on her petite frame, wearing out every bone. Her thoughts cycle briefly to Lucas’ deceased father and his final moments before the chemicals in his system consumed him, an apology for failing her and their son stuttering through a cold, trembling mouth. Every time the memory is replayed, her heart broke into pieces, for she didn’t believe her nor Lucas would find love like that again.

      “Lucas, baby, don’t break that please! I need you to quiet down and relax for five minutes; mommy is on the phone,” Emma begs her toddler before returning to speak to her landlord on the other end of the line, her frustration mounting. It had been several days now since the move in, but it appeared that likewise with her losing a babysitter, everything was coming apart at the seams. Her apartment, in particular, was literal. “Listen carefully. Your contractor was supposed to be here a fucking hour ago and I’m paying you too much money for rent to be sitting around waiting. My pipes are broken, my cabinet doors are falling from their hinges, drawers are getting stuck, and that's not even everything wrong with this place. And on top of all the renovations needed: I've barely unpacked, I have a million other errands to run, I have to call my boss to get the weekend off, I’ve missed out on my first week of classes. Please. I don’t need this process to be any harder. If you could just page him again or something. Or just give me his cell number and I'll reach out myself.” She runs her clawed hand through her hair, combing and tugging it back, then waits as the landlord runs through his rehearsed reply. “Okay, fine. I’ll give it twenty more minutes,” she concludes before slapping the flip phone closed and letting a gust of air escape her glossed lips.

      Quietly reciting the mantra routinely used to ease her stress, Emma refused to allow the walls to cave in on her. Resilience was her greatest strength, and it was too premature to renounce the new life she had set path toward. “Lucas, what did I—” she begins to scold as she redirects her attention back to her son, soon after interrupted by a knock on her door. “Listen, we'll talk about it later. Go get one of your coloring books and sit still while I answer the door, please and thanks my love.” 

      She adjusts her appearance to a palatable state, then finally marches toward the door and turns the lock to slowly open. MONTY
      @Maxim
    • Simple Kind of Life
      By Foxy
      .intoforest { position: relative; margin: 20px auto 0px; background: #191919; height: auto; padding: 40px; width: 400px; min-height: 300px; } .intoforest img { position: absolute; height: 250px; width: 480px; object-fit: cover; left: 0px; top: 0px; filter: grayscale(0%) contrast(75%); } .ifoutline { position: relative; min-height: 220px; width: 320px; border: 1px solid #d3e0e5; } .intoforest text { display: block; position: relative; color: #e7e7e7; padding: 30px; margin-top: 210px; text-align: justify; font-size: 12px; line-height: 180%; font-family: roboto; padding-bottom: 20px; } .intoforest lyrics { position: absolute; color: #d3e0e5; font-family: overpass; text-transform: uppercase; font-weight: 800; font-size: 8px; letter-spacing: 8px; width: 190px; line-height: 200%; padding: 20px; } And all I wanted was the simple things
      ✓ Treasure maps

      ✓ Hidden clues

      ✓ Treasure chest with prizes for everyone

      ✓ Camera

      For the last two weeks, Melissa read and repeated those words to herself in order to have everything ready for the big day: her first day at a new school. Not only was it an important moment for Melisa, since she would be meeting the children and parents whom she would be working with for the rest of the year for the first time, but this first journey also was crucial to make a good impression on them. Even though she hadn't been teaching for that long, one of Melisa's biggest priorities always was to make children feel like home at school, and that wasn't an easy task. For this particular group, she planned a treasure hunt, so they could explore the school together, get comfortable around each other, have fun and get used to working as a group.

      Working as a teacher in Olympia was very different to what she had experienced in Madrid. Here, in Olympia, Melisa felt free to develop her ideas, use more innovative teaching methods and, the most important thing, be herself. For years the pressure of having to please everyone made her job extremely difficult, specially when parents realized who she was... but she always had something, or better said, someone, who kept inspiring her through every difficulty she faced. Smiling, Melisa opened the bottom drawer of her desk, and took something from there, a photo of "her".

      "It is going to be an amazing day." Melisa says taking one last glance to the photo. Natalia would have loved Olympia: the people, the night life, the landscape... God... not even moving to a different country was enough to turn the page. Knowing that this day she would need that "extra strength", instead of putting the photo in its place, Melisa kept it in the pocket of her blouse so they could be together through the whole journey.

      It was almost time to start receiving the children and meet their parents, so Melisa took another five minutes to check if everything was ready and then stood in the entry way with the rest of the teachers, ready for the big moment. While waiting for them, she took a look at the list of students, their photos and then counted if she had a treasure map for all of them. From her previous experiences, she knew it was better to already know her students' names on her first day, not only it was useful for herself, but also helped make things easier to the parents concerned for leaving their child with an "unknown person".

      And just like that families started arriving. Little Melisa knew that a strong bond would be created between her and some of the people she would meet that day. In some cases, probably stronger than they would like. MONTY