Thursday, 4 September 2014

The Director and the Muse

The Director and the Muse

Nothing less than familiar was the pattern he found himself at this moment; watching one of his own movies in his twenty seated cinema at his sixteen bedroom mansion home in West Hollywood. He wasn't complaining though, he was proud of his accomplishments. Getting to where he was, was everything he worked for his entire life. It could seem eerie being in that cinema all on his own, but then again he learned to live with it. His name was Paris and he was sixty five. He was healthy for his age and had the soul of a twelve year old youth. Hollywood was where he was meant to be; creative by nature, brilliant with actions, youthful for eternity. The place where you could be forever young and all that shit, which he didn't and never bought into the tinsel town gimmicks.

It was only a 11.30pm on a Wednesday night and Paris wasn't tired yet, so he went into his room which he called 'the hub'. It had all the posters of his forty one films on the walls. The room was huge. To the far corner was 'the desk' where he wrote his masterpieces. It would be fair to say eighty percent of his time in the house was spent in this room, the other ten percent doing something else, the final ten percent sleeping. The back wall was the special wall, which Paris walked too. It had the photos of all his muses to date, so far there were eight. Paris looked at them, smiling and a joy ignited inside his body like the woman gave him an extraordinary power.

Paris knew from a very early age when he discovered a camera for the first time and first learnt to write, that nothing else gave him more power to achieve his creative dreams then his muses - nothing else came close. It was the muses, and it was the only Hollywood cliche he was in unanimous agreement with. But he sighed, because it was a shame to remember that he had never even been on a date in his life. At sixty five, he knew full well now that work had always been his life and he always hoped to meet a woman through his work, like his creative genius would be enough to find love. But it never seemed to appear for him and the closets woman he ever came into to contact with as dating material was his muses.

He walked to the desk and started preparing paperwork for his next film. He did this without thinking, but it was the loneliness, that was his demon and it could be his only downfall. He looked back at the muses, proud of them as his superstars, also proud how they had grown into fine mothers and wives, but secretly, really deep down he felt jealousy. But then again he thought, do directors really get it on with their muses? Did Tarantino really get with his Uma, or Lars with his long time Charlotte Gainsbourg, or Woody with the Scarlett? Maybe it was a myth after all that the director meets his muse - for real. All that told and philosophized, all Paris knew was he was a genius and that was the way God made him and probably all he was supposed to be.

There were about thirty people on the bus on route to Hollywood. Funny enough every one of the people were actors. Freya sat quietly, thinking and looking out of the window at the desert like exteriors of LA. It looked a lot different in real life Freya thought. She was twenty one, from New York and fresh out of drama school. A blonde with all the attributes of an all American, but the physical features of a European. Back at home she got the nickname "The Russian" because she looked like one, a tall Russian model with an American voice, she was very unique and her drama tutors fell in love with her for that fact.

All Freya wanted to do was act. Coming to Hollywood was her dream and she knew that was her goal in life. She didn't feel intimidated, she had been through excellent training at her drama school. It did seem weird though how every person on the bus was an actor, all with the same dream, going to Hollywood with the same aim. It seemed like some weird conveyor belt. And that cliche of a truck load of actors being shipped into Hollywood and a truck load leaving at the same rate, was living proof.

Freya walked into her flat share. The place was basic, it was next to other cheap properties one step up from trailer park status. She met her flat mates, once again they were all actors and Freya knew her life was going to be film inside out. All of the flatmates were in the house now and they sat in the lounge and made Freya at home. Two of the flatmates were together and had a baby who was a boy. He sat in his mothers hands and Freya looked at him, she thought he was gorgeous, but felt slightly sorry for him because he was going to be a Hollywood baby, literally born into a world of destitute actors chasing a dream, living the life of do or die. Andrew was another flatmate and had been in Hollywood for five years, he had worked on some pretty big films. If Freya was going to strike romance anytime soon, she found Andrew very attractive.

It was two years later. Freya was sitting in her agents office having a meeting. The agent was finishing up business on the telephone and Freya waited patiently. She was happy she had hit the ground running since she came to Hollywood. Within the first six months she scored auditions and in the first year had been in four films and done various TV promos and commercials. By the time her agent discovered her in the second year he signed her straight away. The agent also fell for the all American with European features. In Freya's personal life, she was with Andrew, which was inevitable if Freya was honest with herself. Things were good. Then the agent put the phone down.

There was something different about the twinkle in the agents eye as he looked at Freya, the smile was singing, it was a mood Freya had never seen him in before. Just from the phone call, the agent spoke excitedly and there was a spring in his voice, so Freya knew the meeting was about something important. The agent told Freya that one of the biggest directors in Hollywood was interested in her auditioning for his next film - the director was Paris Woods. Freya was enchanted straight away, she knew of the Paris before she even got to Hollywood, as a child she watched all his films. When the agent got off the phone to Paris, he knew the minimal dialogue that came his way is that Freya was his potential new muse.

Rarely did Paris participate in his own castings, he left it to his casting director. But he attended this one and he knew the reason why. The casting went on and on this day. It was going to be an eighteen hour day with no breaks, right now the session was into the eighth hour. The actors kept coming, giving their rendition of the characters, and then leaving. All of them were professional. A few big names had been through the doors that day such as Mary Elizabeth Winstead, Mark Strong and Micky Rourke.

In the waiting room, Freya sat - in character. She was a gifted actress anyway, but learnt how to be one hundred percent professional when on the audition circuit. She had become a lot more experienced as a performer in the two years she was had been at Hollywood. A queue of actors were all around her, waiting, biting nails, some in character, others not. Freya kept cool. She felt something good inside, not about the audition, or the character, or the film itself. It was about Paris. She somehow felt she was there to meet him. It was like a sixth sense was working between them.

Freya walked into the room and Paris' eyes froze. "She has finally arrived" was all that occupied his mind. When Freya went to the center of the room and introduced herself, it was the casting director and his plucky assistant who did the talking. Paris couldn't say anything, all he could see in front of him was his superstar. The superstar he had been searching for. The type of superstar producers wait all year in their office to land on their laps, sometimes they do and sometimes they don't. The audition didn't begin because Paris wouldn't let it. He kept looking at Freya and Freya looked back at him. She knew she had won his heart and the audition was over before it even began, as in she got the part. The silence continued for five minutes.

Lights glittered in every direction. Paris was happy and humble for another one of his films to get to the Oscars. Event regulars knew his face and greeted him like a member of the family. Fans screamed his name, squealing for autograph's. The man was a legend. Then there was his new superstar on his arm, the brilliant Freya, who became a star instantly from the lead role she played in the movie. Fans screamed her name as well and presenters begged her for interview's. It was all so new to her, unreal almost to think three years prior she was a young woman fresh off the Hollywood bus with nothing and now she was on the red carpet at the Oscar's, competing for the best actress award. She beamed her smiles and knew in the back of her mind, she had Paris to thank for where she was, so she showed him the most respect by staying by his side the entire time. She knew she was his muse now and she wasn't going to disgrace him in anyway because he was too much of a legend.

The next award to be announced was for editing. The silence was the usual at awards ceremony; quiet just before the winner is announced, totally serious on the verge of release like when a man is about to cum. The name announced was Sandra McDonald - Paris' editor. Sandra jumped up, elated. Paris hugged her, proud for her. Sandra walked to the stage. She had been Paris' editor since she started in the business, they had worked together for thirty years. She was a delicate woman, brunette, sixty years old and sweet. Paris looked at her like one of his children, in a way she was his longest term muse, but he didn't see her as the general type of muse.

Sandra accepted the award humbly. It was her first major award, let alone an Oscar. Deep down as she faced the audience and talked like it was her first time seeing the world, she knew it was a long time coming. She thanked many people, as they do! But mostly she thanked Paris and said her success was because of him which Paris thought was very nice. He loved his Sandra, but their was something in her voice and the way she looked into the audience directly at him when she mentioned his name, that spoke something much deeper.

It was a private party to celebrate the movie, at Paris' house. Paris was in front of the mirror, sharpening up in his suit. He was looking forward to the night, he loved throwing parties and events, that was one of his specialties. However it was this night he was going to do what he had never had the guts to do before, and that was to ask his muse for a date. He was nervous because of certain things; such as him being old enough to be Freya's dad, him not being good enough because he had never ever been on a date with a woman before. Or it being just creepy that Freya was his 'project' and now he was going to abuse the relationship by fucking it up with this type of move. Maybe he was thinking too much, but he took a deep breath as his bow tie was perfectly in place and decided he would never know unless he tried. Plus she had recently split up with Andrew, so she was available.

The party was in full swing. All of the people from the movie was there. Other Hollywood stars were there aswell. Paris was having a ball, in the thick of the social action, charismatic and making people laugh, on top form. Guests warmed to him because he was such a respected ambassador to the community and the industry. He was respected and Hollywood stars did what they could to honor their inspiration. Then Freya turned up, making a somewhat late appearance as if the diva in her was being unleashed. When Paris saw her he thought that Hollywood had trained her well! His eyes grew like he was a twelve year old boy with a crush, building up the Dutch courage to pop the big question of asking the girl out. But a man appeared next to her, it was Channing Tatum and Paris' heart punctured when he saw them holding hands.

It was obvious Freya was Hollywood's next top big thing, because she had only been at the party for five minutes and practically had ten film offers from directors and producers whom flocked around her. She didn't get the best actress award in the end, she just missed out on it to Carey Mulligan, but that didn't matter, there was plenty of time. She was known as The Russian in Hollywood too, that never left. Her presence suggested she was the in demand knockout where no film industry person could resist the chick. This was all because of Paris who gave her the big break.

Soon enough Freya arrived at Paris and gave him the biggest of hugs like always - like a father, which Paris hated for the first time and he knew why. She introduced Channing to him, they kind of knew each other through one film project or another, but Channing shook Paris' hand like he was royalty anyway. Freya said they were a couple only after Paris had indirectly forced the question. The love birds acted all in love and Paris was ready to break, inside he was done, the jealousy was going to kill him eventually. But he acted happy for his muse and how she had bagged a Hollywood A list to go with her rising status, Andrew long kicked into touch.

In the garden, Paris had found a quiet spot. He was fed up with the party, angry inside and ready to destroy - it was only destructive thoughts. The dark side to every human being was being unleashed more than ever inside of Paris right now. Hate. He was ready to hate with a passion that could kill. He wasn't a murderer! Again it was only destructive thoughts, however he wasn't mature enough to realize he was experiencing the bitter end of love. He made a bottle of rum disappear and he threw it into the swimming pool. The possibility of a drunken guest going skinny dipping and stepping on it, slicing up their foot amused him for a second. But he was too drunk to be assed to go in a get it. Instead he removed another full bottle from his pocket and cracked on.

Freya appeared by the door. She was looking for Paris and found him when she saw the lonesome figure sitting in the distance of the garden. She walked over and sat next to him. Paris looked a wreck, he was so drunk he looked like a different person. It was a shadow of his former self in a disturbing way. Freya didn't know what had happened to her director. Paris loved his muse with everything he had - professionally. But in the end dating the muse was a myth, it was never going to happen. Even though Paris was putting on a brave face, Freya knew exactly what this was about, he liked her and she felt sorry for her genius hero and director. She looked straight through him at the truth of the man, like when one is drunk, underneath, on his own, Paris was terribly lonely.

Three years later, their was a poster of Freya in the room called the hub, next to the rest of Paris' muses, Freya was number nine. Paris was in the center of the room, on the floor, depressed. It was serious depression, like the really serious stuff only genius poets and writers suffer. It was excruciating, fucking soul air bending, making it almost physically impossible to move inside and out. Paris knew this all too well, he suffered it from a boy, but had always been able to handle it right the way through to his old age. But not this one. When a poets depression is mixed with broken love, fucking hell. Especially at Paris' level in his career and status in life, this very well could be the big one to be his downfall.

But at least a part of him was happy for his Freya. She had married Channing now and had been in movies from Spielberg to Nolan. He got a text on his mobile and it was from Freya, just wishing him well and seeing how he was. Paris smiled, but literally didn't have the energy to text back. He was going to face his depression head on and lay on that floor for as long as it took to pass. If it took days then he would be there for days. That was the discipline required to overcome the poets depression instead of doing something stupid like topping oneself.

It was day three and Paris was still on the floor. He got a call from Sandra his life long trusted editor and she reminded him they had to meet to talk about a project. Paris was pleased the depression was thinning and he could manage phone calls. Then it hit him, so unexpectedly it felt like a set up. Sandra asked him out. It took minutes to uncover what Sandra was actually saying was genuine, and she replied every time it was. Paris asked her why now and why it took her so long and she replied that she felt it would ruin their working relationship. Right then Paris knew he wasn't the only one experiencing these things.

Paris said yes to both requests; meeting for the project and a date. He didn't know why, but Sandra seemed completely right, his heart told him that. She was always one of his muses, but she was a different type of muse, a production muse, not an on camera muse. It was odd, like something had sneaked up on him and hit him through the back door. Sandra was always there, for more than thirty years, it just took that long for her to show herself. She had always been single just like him, growing old alone. But also just like Paris, it was their time to get together, their time to be an item. God had made them wait until old age, but it seemed worth it in the end. The weight on Paris' body disappeared, like he had been unchained and set free. He stood up a new man, the depression gone, and he had the feeling it wasn't going to return for a while.




Thursday, 28 August 2014

Troublemaker 4

Troublemaker 4

The five of them were trudging through the arrival point of Glastonbury, in amongst the thousands of fellow festival goers. Jamie was looking through a rock magazine, on the page of the band Silver Arrows. She only had eyes for the lead singer, Baz. He was tall, dark and hot and Jamie was going to make him hers at the festival no matter what. One way or the other she was going to shag him, that's all, just to fuck him and if a relationship came of it, then it would have been a fairy tale. It wasn't going to be straight forward though because Baz was in a famous relationship with a famous woman - fuck it, another conquest to tick off the checklist thought Jamie. Her best friend Chessie was next to her, as well as the rest of their group which included the members of Harriet, Chloe and Fergi. Jamie knew her goal was something of a well layed plan because it was Fergi who had 'the hook up'. As they kept walking on, it turned out Fergi had won backstage passes to Silver Arrows performance, however Jamie had an additional plan, and was a matter of if her friends would be with her. She knew Chessie would be game, she was her sidekick, it was convincing the other three.

An hour or two later the gang were setting up camp on the hill. They all agreed they could have had the boys around then. It was a fucking nightmare as they fitted key to hole and rod to rod etc... Jamie then told the girls about her idea of using the backstage performance passes early, to see if the festival would allow them to hang out with the band the day before their set - as they were playing on the Saturday. They all eventually agreed to go along with it, but knew it was about Jamie's never gonna happen fantasy quest of getting it on with Baz.

It was 9am and the gang were at The Other Stage witnessing the end of a secret set by Beady Eye, who were surprisingly alright. When the crowd realized the rumor was true that Liam Gallagher and his mob were playing and when they swaggered onto the stage, the reactions were mixed as Beady Eye were a band that was relatively a hit or miss as they weren't to everybody's taste. However watching Liam in his signature scowling demeanor and the injection the groups music brought to a bright Friday morning start, was a sweet touch. The way Liam sized up back and forth to the microphone as if he wanted to have it out with it. The music was patchy at best as to be expected, but it still left the crowd energized for a long three days. Jamie liked Liam's arrogance, in the weirdest of ways it brought the best out in her.

That's when the group decided to try their luck with the backstage passes, so they made their way to the Pyramid Stage. When they arrived at a huge fence which had a sign on it showing "VIP Backstage Passes Only" the girls knew they had found the right place. Standing by the entrance was a rather unnecessarily large security guard. The girls looked at him, unsure whether to place him as a hot guy or a man that was so unique it was his worst enemy. Fergi showed the passes to the man and it took him five glances back and forth before he opened his mouth. When he spoke, he had a strong Polish accent, lacked personality, basically a robot. He said their passes weren't valid yet and to come back before the band were to play the next day.

The girls weren't going to take that, so they persisted, most of all Jamie. It seemed to be working because to the girls surprise the security guard revealed a soft side that didn't match his exterior image. The girls smelt weakness and then the guard opened the gate and told them to follow him. The girls looked at each other containing their excitement.

It seemed like the high life to the girls and most of all they seemed like celebrities themselves, because as they walked through a secret location, to the left and right of them were luxury caravan's with the bands names on them. Their was Kasabain, Arctic Monkey's, Foo Fighters, Coldplay. The girls were in cloud nine, kinda dreaming, especially when they saw Mick Jagger parading around in a onesie and Kate Moss loitering around with Pete Doherty - the girls couldn't believe what they were seeing. Then they arrived at Silver Arrows caravan and the security guard knocked on the door. Jamie's heart sunk when the Baz answered. The sound of the security guards voice suggested he took pity on the girls when he told Baz they were fans with backstage passes and wanted to have a pre-hang out with them, if they would allow it. Baz looked at the girls, Jamie dropping her chin with flirting eyes, and then he told the guard it was alright and he let them in.

In the caravan, the girls sat on the settee's, next to another group of girls who were Russian. Jamie's lot introduced themselves and they became friends as fast as a brand new magnet. It was clear the Russians were outside of Jamie's lots bracket - they were groupies and had been around the Silver Arrows long enough to qualify to that status. Jamie's lot were brand new wannabe's. The band themselves didn't really participate with either group right now, every now and again they would pop over, have a drink with them and then bugger off. Most of the time they were playing songs with their instruments. Baz himself was pretty elusive, but when he was most present, especially to Jamie's eye, was when his famous girlfriend turned up - Daisy Lowe. She was a bombshell, that's what both sets of girls thought and within a heartbeat felt so ordinary and normal. Daisy and Baz had a smooch on a chair for ages. The girls almost having an out of body experience as they watched them. Not Jamie, she watched with pure evil intent.

When Daisy left and Baz joined in with his band to a song, Jamie decided her next action was to make a move on him before it was too late. It kind of already was she knew, but she had nothing to lose by trying. But the man left after the song and Jamie seemed stuck. However she thought and acted quickly and told her friends she was going outside for some air and left before they could say they were going to join her.

Jamie was trying to find Baz but she couldn't. Instead she kept bumping in and out of famous people like Josh Homme from Queens of the Stone Age and Arcade Fire who were dressed like characters from an arcade machine. Then to her far right was Pete Doherty playing the guitar, which turned into a collapse on the floor after taking a hit of what looked to be heroin - but their was no Kate, hmmm! Jamie was going to give up the search and stood by a fence, feeling sorry for herself... then she heard these noises, the strange noises you only hear in sex. It alerted her awareness and she followed it. The noises led her to the back of a caravan somewhere. She tread carefully not to be seen by anyone, and when she looked around the corner, OMG! Smacked her face as she saw Baz and Mossy going at it against the caravan. Standing sex, quick, rough, wham bam thank you mam, nice - Jamie thought. Instantly she started snapping away with her Iphone.

The thought of wanting Baz had been sidelined faster than Fernando Torres being benched, the only thought Jamie had on her mind now was becoming rich when she sells the pictures to The Sun. Not after trying for Baz though, she would still give that a go. However if he rejected her she would resort to bribe, something that was her specialty, and she had the upper hand because she had proof. Moving swiftly along. Eventually she stopped snapping pictures. She thought of Daisy and the conclusion was - at least one was out of the way. She was slightly jealous of Kate though, because she really was seductively hot. Baz fucked well, everything Jamie imagined, on the same token Kate was a dynamite in that department too, the stellar get it on no nonsense all the way from Croydon.

It was Saturday, 2pm and the girls were in the enormous tent they called the John Peel Stage. It was full to the brim with people watching the excellent Bastille playing on the stage. Bastille were on their A game and were quite simple magnificent. The vibe from the crowd was more than a hundred percent, whether that be because they had Monday under their belts and were gearing up technically for the main day, or just because Bastille was the best act so far, the audience went for the second. However Jamie was in a fowl mood because she had managed to get the girls thrown out of their VIP treatment with Silver Arrows the day before. She touched Baz's leg when they were all back in the caravan.

Chessie sensed something was on Jamie's mind and said not to worry about it. She told Jamie to try and make it right when they potentially saw the band again later that day before their set. Jamie agreed with Chessie, but the word 'right' was interpreted as her trying her luck with Baz again. If he still declined it was here we go to The Sun we go.

The band were scheduled to play at 7pm, so the girls went to the backstage gate at 4pm to settle in early. But when they were met with their most recent best friend security guard, he looked at them, going back to his T 1000 character way and said they were denied access because the band said so. The girls were mortified, Jamie was ready to create carnage, and when they pleaded, the man ripped up the passes in front of Fergi and threw them on the floor. Jamie looked at Chessie, Chessie looked at Jamie, and it was their signature look of 'let's do some messin'. It was even better when Jamie showed the pictures of Baz and Kate to Chessie, and then decided on a plan.

In the amusement area, Jamie and Chessie stole a large poster from a fence, found some paint and wrote the inevitable on it...

When the band walked out onto the Pyramid Stage, an up roar of enthusiastic cries thundered around Worthy Farm. The girls were in the crowd nearer the front, Jamie and Chessie had the devious twinkle in their eyes and decided to wait for the band to settle before they took action. A few songs into the set, the evening hadn't fully set yet, there was still a lot of light, so Jamie got on Chessie's shoulders and held her banner high in the sky. It showed "BAZ FUCKS MOSS"

It took two minutes into the bands five minute song for the BBC camera's to catch the banner in plain sight and it also flashed up on the projector screens. Even though the music kept on playing, the sign caused a weird stand still across the entire Pyramid Stage. It was that moment like did you just see that? Jamie and Chessie saw the banner and themselves on the screen and they punched the air like hero's. Baz saw the sign in the crowds of people and he was so thrown off guard he forgot his lines and had to style his mistake out by playing a longer solo.

When the song ended, no music continued. There was disruption within the band, activity that seemed restless on the stage. Jamie and Chessie made themselves hidden in the sea of fans, but people around them gave them funny looks, like the music stopped because of them. Then out of no-where and army of security guards appeared, grabbed the girls and dragged them out of the festival. Jamie and Chessie cursed at the guards, calling them cunts, but the guards told them to shut up. But either way Jamie was looking forward to becoming rich when she met with The Sun next week. So it was all fun and games in the end.






Friday, 22 August 2014

Look Again For Reference

Look Again For Reference

"It would be nice to have someone around" she thought as she read through the latest script her agent sent her. It was a bulky script, a good 140 pages. She was on page 44 as that was the section the audition required her to prepare for. Her long blonde hair was shaggy and her perfect slim frame complimented the small plate of the half finished dinner next to her. The flat she lived in was a cool Victorian 1 bedroom in Islington. She was proud she had bought the place and was now on the ladder, the small fortunes she earn't through her acting had got her there.

Her name was Yeva, Ukrainian. She was thirty one and had been acting since she was eleven. The role she was preparing for was a twenty five high school drop out wanting to get a degree named Kim. Yeva read over the lines again and again in her head. Kim was the lead and her opposite was a man called Barry who was the same age, it was a love story. Yeva loved the character, but she felt sad because she was lonely. She loved her acting more than anything else and was the only thing she ever wanted to do, however she had been single for years and hadn't seen her family or friends for a long time too. It was getting to her a lot, but she always remained strong because as an A-lister in the making, she knew her tornado of a work schedule was the cruel price she had to pay.

Yeva went into the front room and started acting the scene out, playing the role of both characters, it was her unique process which got her into character, improved her acting skills and made her remember the lines better. She did the scene over and over again and felt comfortable with Kim, but not with Barry. She stopped and had a moment to think what the problem was... it was Barry. Usually when she was auditioning for a lead role which had a male opposite, she would envision the man; what he would be like, what he looked like, what he sounded like, how he smelt. This gave her more power to bring her character to life. Usually characters like Barry, the visionary image would be someone such as Johnny Depp or Bradley Cooper, but for some reason the imaginary man would not appear and it was frustrating her.

Yeva walked into her room and got into bed. Usually by this time she would have forgotten about the audition and would switch off, but the practice sessions were bugging her. "Oh well" she thought and would go to the audition the next day and hope for the best, but at the same time it was a really big project so there was a lot on the line. Yeva looked at the pictures of her family and her best friends on the table next to the bed and she smiled. Then she rested her head on the pillow and looked the other way. It seemed like decades when a man slept next to her. Moving to England and cracking the film industry was her dream and hopefully meeting a man in the business was a dream of almost equal measure. It hadn't happened and it seemed like God was making her wait, but she had been waiting for so long.

The audition was for 9am and Yeva was waiting at Kings Cross Station for the national rail to go to South London. Nerves were kicking in. Even though she was a relatively big name in the industry, she always still got nervous when auditioning, especially when the director behind the project she was going for was Martin Scorsese. And she still hadn't found the visionary image of Barry and it was pissing her off.

On the train, Yeva could have been taken for as a nut job, probably because she wasn't reading one of those Metro newspapers the way nine till fivers do on commute who were all around her. She was going over the lines in her head and acting the role out by miming the words. Commuters looked at her like she was a weirdo whilst sweating in their suits and stressed out about the board room meeting that morning. Yeva didn't give a shit, she was in character and nothing else existed at that moment.

Yeva morphed out of character and had a break. She felt confident enough for the audition and seemed ready, but it was Barry, she still felt incomplete. Then out of the corner of her eye she saw a man, the poster man type, tall, chiseled featured and dark haired. He took all of Yeva's attention and she mesmerized by him. "That's it" she thought as if a light bulb had turned on "It is him". The man also seemed totally different to everyone else on the train; he wasn't in a suit, he had his headphones in, there was something different about him, something interesting like he was up to something. He was the type of person Yeva thought she had seen somewhere but couldn't figure out where. Strangely enough he seemed a lot like her.

Yeva looked out of the window like a young girl with a crush, but she didn't know why. She looked back at the man again and it became confirmed; he was Barry's imaginary inspiration and it was love at first sight if Yeva was totally honest with herself. She couldn't stop looking at him, then she realized perhaps that was her problem and the reason why she was single; because she fell too easily, a person who were brilliant at her work, but needy.

Yeva got back into character and practiced with the man as Barry and Pow! It clicked. Yeva could have jumped up and yelped with joy like she had just won the part for a film, but she didn't. She just sat with the biggest of grins knowing she was completely ready for the audition now. She relaxed out of character once more and felt satisfied. But the niggle of love tugged at her heartstrings and she couldn't help to look back at the man once more. When she did, the man caught her eye then Yeva got embarrassed and looked away. "Why" she would later kick herself. It was because she didn't expect it. But it didn't stop her looking again and the man returned the look once more. This time Yeva stood up like a woman and maintained the gaze. The man smiled, so did Yeva then he looked out of his window. Yeva liked him, she wanted to talk to him, but felt how 'normal' is it to look for love on the train, not really. She thought she was falling into the category of people that are on the look out for the 'rush hour crush' and posting there feelings on that column in none other than the Metro newspaper.

Yeva got off the train at her stop and walked ahead. She was trying to keep her head in the game for the audition, but the man was playing on her mind terribly. She wanted to find him and talk to him she fell that badly for him, and just when she was about too the man was in front of her.

"Hi. You are Yeva Gleba aren't you" the man said.
"Yes" Yeva replied.
"I thought so. I recognized you from the movie Scope"

"He recognized me from my movies, wow!" Yeva thought.

"I'm Donzo, I'm an actor too" the man continued.

He offered out his hand and Yeva shook it. She didn't recognize him straight away and then eventually it fell into place, she had seen him from the movies. Donzo was a handsome stage name too, she smirked.

"Your agent told my agent you were preparing for the role of Kim in Marty's new flick" Donzo said.
"Yes, I am" Yeva replied.
"I really hope you get it. I am playing Barry, they cast me last week"

Yeva couldn't believe what was going on. It was as if, if there were ever a sign that things were meant to happen at the right time, it was then.

On set, it was an erotic scene. The set was tightly together; the lights, crew, the props. Yeva and Donzo were on the settee. Yeva was ecstatic to have the role of Kim, she had never had so much fun on a film set before. Marty was behind the camera and was directing the DOP with the next shot, Yeva looked at him and found Mr Scorsese the inspiration of dreams to say the very, very least. She never got too nervous with love making scenes and Donzo was a total gentlemen, always asking her if she was OK. Marty said "action" and Yeva and Donzo got to it - it was passionate. The crew were becoming lost in the heat of the action because it seemed so alive.

Once the take was done, the runner brought the cast their water and the set had a moments break before the next take. Yeva and Donzo looked at each other and there was something between them that made their acting so alive - it was chemistry in real life. Yeva loved acting with Donzo, but also really wanted to date him. Then to her surprise Donzo whispered in her ear and asked her out discreetly. Yeva was ecstatic and said "yes" then they shared a kiss for real and the crew who saw it thought it was a mini rehearsal. When their lips parted, Donzo had sparks in his eyes, he really liked Yeva. And Yeva felt like the luckiest woman on earth. She thought the drastic fantasy of finding love on the train was merely a total farce, however it was partly Donzo that got her the role in the movie in the first place, so it was all meant to be after all.



Sunday, 17 August 2014

Shagless Aspiration

Shagless Aspiration

The suit was tailored from top to bottom, it was at least a thousand pounds on his six foot one frame, the shoes five hundred pounds from a hand made Italian rich man's place, the cuff links three hundred pounds. But the eyes in the face were of the lonely man with a heavy dose of sexual frustration growing out of the pupils along with staining desperation overtaking the blues around it. He checked himself in the mirror and saw the reflection he knew for twenty years; a successful millionaire that had done well in the markets. He was good looking, dressed sharp, at the top of his industry. But he had no woman and hadn't been layed in ten years and he didn't know why.

His name was Jack and he was forty five years old. It was approaching 7.45am and he was in his enormous kitchen eating a Michelin starred looking Eggs Benedict. His house keeper Pam, an attractive middle aged, average but happy lady was cleaning up the dishes. Jack didn't need to do anything around the house for himself, he was so rich he paid Pam to do it for him. The breakfast was like perfection, that was the highlight of the morning, eating Pam's creations. Jack felt it was like Forest Gump where he didn't know what he was going to get. The generous sized plasma for a kitchen to say the least was on Bloomberg, a morning routine Jack always had, it was also a pattern which made him rise to the top in his firm.

Jack walked out the front door. The building behind him seemed to get endlessly bigger with every step, and when the full length was in sight it was like a castle. The fleet of cars were layed out in front of Jack on the pebble dashed drive way. Yoshi, the house security guard was by the gate and waved good morning to Jack which Jack returned. Yoshi was a tough looking Polish man, happy to pick up his amazing pay check for doing hardly anything. Yoshi wasn't even his real name, that was the name Jack gave him because Jack saw himself as Mario and someone had to play Yoshi - the security guard was it.

When Jack arrived at the cars, he scanned each one as he usually did, picking one for the day like it was which suit he was wearing for the day. He chose the red Lamborghini Aventador. When he was inside and the atom bomb of an engine started up he looked at the castle in front of him, and as happy as he was to see it, he felt like he could break at any moment because he couldn't fill it with anyone but himself. Pam was at the front door and waved Jack a good day, which he returned. Jack loved Pam, but he was big enough to admit he was fiercely jealous of her because she had a partner to go home too every night where he didn't. He considered his wealth as the price he had to pay. And then he drove out of the driveway.

It was 11.30pm and Jack was brushing his teeth. He had a good day at the office, it being a Wednesday and he only made £300,000. He knew he was on the verge of becoming a billionaire and had handled everything well. He realized that when one becomes rich, their standards go up to match the wealth and earning less than a certain amount set by that growing person wasn't tolerated, it was by all counts a failure. He knew people would call him living on mars, but his feet were firmly on the ground - always.

He walked into his bedroom and looked at the bed, two thoughts crossed his mind; live or die. Live in the hope that he will have sex one day again soon or die out of letting the frustration take it's toll on him. He got into bed and swore he wouldn't do the next action he had been doing all too frequently; reaching down to the big boy. It was funny, this night he just couldn't be bothered, he didn't know why at first, but a change of patterns went through his mind. He thought he should stop feeling sorry for himself and start dating again, how hard could it be? But for the strangest reasons he was so unsuccessful with the speed and online fucking dating (not that type of fucking, he just swore) even as a rich man, that he had virtually given up. As he continued to think, he knew all he really needed was a shag to release his tension, to raise his confidence. Then he thought about something that was always in the back of his mind; prostitutes.

He removed his Apple Mac which hadn't been released to the general public yet, only to people like him,  from the eighty thousand pound coffee table and opened up the net. He started to search for prostitute sites and found one. His mind began to wonder, wonder and wonder, it seemed like the answer and he was getting excited. But he changed his mind and stuck to his morals; he was bigger than it and wouldn't resort to that level of service for sex. He thought it was low and agreed with himself to try dating again and hopefully he'll find a woman who would just be up for it. As he closed the laptop and turned out the lights, a part of him truthfully knew he didn't want to go down the prostitute road because he had developed performance anxiety due to being out of action for ten years.

All of the woman sat on the inside chairs of the bar, facing out and the men sat on the outside chairs facing the woman. Only the men moved. Jack felt uneasy as he waited in the bar alongside several other middle aged desperate for love professionals. He was ready to walk out, feeling the unnaturally forced way of meeting a mate was a joke, but he remembered not to judge because he was just like everyone else around him. When the event began, Jack came to find some really interesting facts - not just about singletons who were growing old, but about life and what lengths speed daters where prepared to go too to reveal information about themselves.

One lady, who resembled a pirate from "Pirates of the Caribbean" (and this isn't referring to Keira Knightly) who also had ten children with the same man then left her, told Jack literally her life story in four minutes. Jack didn't even have a turn to speak and it ended with the lady touching his cock with her foot. Inside, Jack high tailed it to the next seat, but he walked out of far too generous courtesy - he was desperate but not as desperate as that. Jack wasn't enjoying the night really, it all seemed too much work. The woman were OK, but he accepted what will be will be. Then the very last woman he encountered was a knockout early thirties blonde called Morgane. Her face shined as bright as the lights on a catwalk runway, she looked like a model too. Jack was confused, either she was the events plant or she came just to wind the men up. Something didn't seem right, but she sat there anyway. Jack felt like he didn't have a chance in hell with her because he was the in need type at this moment in time, the only thing he had that could set him apart from the other male competition was his millions. And from a vibe that came off of Morgane, that was what attracted her to him.

Things had been going well. It was a month down the line and Jack and Morgane had been meeting up and going out regularly. They were sat at Jack's end to end room table, at dinner, sat opposite each other in landscape placement not portrait otherwise they probably would have need walky talkies to have a conversation. The mood was very romantic; dimly lit, Lafite Rothschild 1990 wine, three Michelin Star meal and Pam. Pam was a wonder; always present when she needed to be, pouring the wine and ordering her runners Jack had hired in especially as well as the cooks for evenings like this. Sparkles were gleaming from Morgane's eyes, she loved everything around her, but deep down that wasn't entirely true about the person sat in front of her. By this time Jack didn't find it puzzling anymore about Morgane choosing him, it seemed she was everything he was waiting for and deserved.

Jack was already in bed and Morgane was in the en suite bathroom, kind of mesmerized by the gold trimmings around almost everything. She entered the bedroom with only her knickers on. Jack looked at her to see the perfect models body, but the only difference with this one was it actually had tits. The performance anxiety he had been fearing was non existent, he was hard already, which definitely boosted his confidence. All he was thinking was "I am finally about to have sex, I am finally about to have sex" but he didn't make it obvious. Morgane layed next to him in the bed and surprised Jack with:

"I don't want to do anything tonight. Is that OK?" Morgane said.

Jack's erection shriveled. He was disappointed, but didn't want to ruin the relationship by showing any sign of anger. So he agreed with Morgane and then he turned out the light and they slept in each others arms, which was a good sign at least Jack felt.

Time passed and Jack and Morgane had been seeing each other most of the time. She had been staying at his house more often than regular. They do house stuff together and then go out and do interesting things like flying planes; activities only millionaires have regular access too. Right now they were playing tennis on Jack's double courted tennis court. Jack liked his tennis and playing with Morgane was fun. It had been three months and things seemed well enough. They had kissed of course, but Jack was still waiting on his first sexual encounter, not just with Morgane, but his first in approaching ten years and half with anyone. It was getting to him, the restlessness in his eyes were becoming heavier by the day. Morgane was a joy to look at and be with, she looked like Maria Sharapova in her tennis outfit. But this day it seemed to dawn on Jack for the first time that Morgane was possibly using him for his money.

The lights were turned out in the bedroom and Morgane was facing away from Jack as usual. Something inside Jack became a man, as he had enough, so he touched her waist. Morgane removed his hand. Jack tried again and Morgane did the same thing. Jack wanted to say something, but he was weak and he didn't. He turned the other way and knew he was in the place he least wanted to be - the friend zone.

The next morning Jack woke up. He noticed Morgane was gone and became confused. He then noticed a note on the other eighty thousand pounds coffee table, and Morgane wrote on it:

I am sorry Jack, but I have left. I feel bad as I feel like I am playing you. I like you, but only as a friend and I think the best thing for me to do and to not hurt you any further is to leave. There is a lot about me that I can't explain right now, but I wish you the well and hope you find a woman soon. Lots of love. Morgane XXX

Jack was upset, but pleased questions had been answered like they were just friends after all. He really liked Morgane and was grateful of the company at least. But the sexual frustration grew just as big, but in not such a positive way.

It was another evening and the laptop was open. Jack was so frustrated he had been sidelined to porn, which he really didn't want to do, but when needs must... He was watching a ridiculously hot famous brunette porn star called Zenith Label go at it solo. She was so sexy it was stuff of dreams. And to Jack's amazement, what the hell surprise, Morgane walked on camera and started kissing Zenith. Jack paused the video trying to confirm it was really her, then he played the video again and it was - somehow she looked hotter on camera, the type of bombshell millions of lonely men around the world would wank off too four times a day - and he had her in his house, in his bed! What was even more puzzling was the porn star name she used was "Lotta Stain". Jack was gobsmacked. Then the door bell went which echoed around the castle.

Jack opened the door and Zenith stood in front of him. He recognized her straight away, but wasn't sure if it was really her because he didn't have a clue what was going on.

"Jack" Zenith said.
"Yes" Jack replied.
"Zenith"

She extender her hand and Jack shook it. "It was Zenith" Jack thought, and he felt like an act of God was happen right now.

"Morgane sent me as a favor" Zenith said.

Jack contemplated the word "favor" and what it meant. Zenith explained some more and it turned out she was Morgane's best friend and that Morgane was on the run because she was in breach of contract with her porn star agency. Zenith told Jack that Morgane had felt bad for leaving him and to make up for it she sent her best friend round to fuck his brains out. In truth, Morgane was more than just a sexual encounter for Jack, he did really like her. However he felt grateful of the gesture she had done for him, he felt it was sweet and that she was thinking of him after all. Jack let Zenith in and her leggy, brunette, star pounding bodied self walked past him. Fifteen minutes later they were in the bedroom and Jack was having the best sex of his life.




Friday, 8 August 2014

Troublemaker 3

Troublemaker 3

Jamie was in a brooding mood, her laptop was on the bed and she was on her Facebook page. She clicked on Chessie’s profile and became even angrier. She was angry from the fall out she had with Chessie recently, however they were still friends on Facebook and hadn't blocked each other, so it seemed the fall out hadn't run too deep. She clicked back onto her profile and typed in her timeline:

Nice to know people crumble when the going gets tough! Plastic friendships unwanted here, bin them!!!

She post the comment. Within seconds there were reply's and likes, all were in favour of Jamie’s view and she smiled, happy to see she was more popular than her ex best friend. Jamie knew she the ability to get people to be on her side, she had that under her spell, even though she was a bad kid she was popular because she was a leader. Chessie was always her sidekick and that was a core truth of their friendship. Jamie’s Facebook message box beeped, it was a message from Chessie.

So I am a plastic friend, bin them. Really?!!

Then Jamie messaged back.

Glad you can read.

Chessie messaged back.

Just because I wouldn't do what you said. Grow up.

Jamie replied.

I lost everything. Some friend!

Chessie replied.

EVERYTHING!! Stop overreacting. I told you I wasn't going to do it.

Jamie messaged back.

Fuck off then.

Chessie didn't reply. Jamie contemplated, only for a second if she was too strong with Chessie, but her emotions hardened when she felt she was being soft. She then logged out of Facebook and turned on the TV.

The hut seemed a bit empty because the space was used to Chessie's presence being there. Jamie erased that feeling quickly because she was still in a mood with her, so she just waited for her boyfriend to turn up. Soon enough Luke arrived, on his bicycle and in his school uniform. His messy hairstyle, undone tie and ink stained shirt resembling an indie troll, which is was one. He sat next to Jamie and kissed her, Jamie was excited to see him, her face lit up when he was around.

"How was school babe?" Luke said.
"Boring. How was yours?" Jamie replied.
"Detention as you know"
"Bummer" 

However something seemed different about Luke's body language. By this time Jamie was used to to him holding her and sharing a few kisses with him, more than the single kiss they just did which resembled married couples getting bored. Jamie noticed Luke looking at her nervously sort of, stuff clattering about in his mind.

"I want to break up" Luke said.
"What!?" Jamie replied.
"I think we should break up"
"You're breaking up with me??"
"No. I think we should break up with each other" Luke said. Jamie did not expect this.
"Why?" Jamie said.
"I've been wanting too for a while. I feel long term we will be better for other people. It will be better for both of us" Luke replied.
"So you are seeing someone else?"
"No. I promise you. No"

Jamie was upset. Underneath she wanted to cry, she had never felt about a boy the way she felt about Luke. When she was honest with herself, Luke was her first true love. At the same time it seemed hard for Luke to break the news to Jamie, his body language became hunched, a posture he never carried.

"OK fine" Jamie said.
"I'm sorry Jamie" Luke replied.
"Just go"
"Can we still be friends?"
"Yeah" Jamie said in a high pitched tone.

Luke knew this was his cue to leave, so he picked up his bike and walked off. He said Jamie's name one last time, but Jamie turned the other way. Luke walked up the road, hoping a friendship with Jamie was a possibility, he believed so, he had just gotten the silent treatment. Inside the hut, Jamie was doing something she swore she would never do over a boy - she was crying. She was really hurt.

It was approaching evening and tear stains were still on Jamie's cheeks. She wiped them again, conscious of anyone seeing her, as she never wanted people to see her weak. Her house was only up the road, but it seemed a mile away, she felt heavy inside. Greg came riding towards Jamie, on his pushbike. He was nineteen "an older boy" in Jamie's language and he was Chessie's best friend, after what used to be her. He stopped next to Jamie with a 'close but not there yet' pro like skid, his taller "older boys" frame towering and his soft dark eyes looking directly at her.

"Hey Jamie" Greg said.
"Hey Greg" Jamie replied.
"Are you alright? Have you been crying?"
"No"
"Yes you have" Greg said. 
"How can you tell?"
"You seem upset"

Jamie didn't know why she couldn't lie to Greg. It was because she fancied him - a lot. And she always had an inkling he liked her, which Greg did a bit, the only thing standing in the way was Chessie. However. Jamie was upset and angry, the deviousness in her eyes grew like it was an animal hunting in the wild, or it was a fierce kind of rebound. Whatever it was didn't matter. The repercussions of what could happen if she did what she was thinking at that moment, got put on hold. She kissed Greg and waited to see his reaction. Gladly it seemed Greg took it well and he was mature with his next move.

"I'll see you around" Greg said and he road off.

The glint in his eye seemed like something could come of that kiss. That is what Jamie hoped anyway.

A group of neighborhood kids were hanging around the street corner, not doing much, just socializing in an anti social way. Jamie was there, pretty popular as she was in the center of what was going on. She seemed in brighter spirits this day, she had more positive things on her mind to think about; like Greg. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Chessie walking on the other side if the road, on her phone and who also seemed to be really happy, a smile on her face from ear to ear. Jamie actually felt a touch warmer to the girl who used to be her best friend, but Greg played on her mind and she felt warm to him too. She was still a bit angry at Chessie and that is what made her decide to pursue Greg, even if it was going to upset a few characters - being one, the girl on the other side of the road.


Chessie put her phone away and looked at the group of kids. It was a crowd she knew and she would have mucked in until she saw Jamie. And then she immediately turned her head away and kept on walking. This pissed Jamie off, it made the menace in her eyes go more acute. She knew pursing Greg was a dangerous move, but Chessie blanking her meant war now.


It was a warm day in the nearby fields, after school and Jamie sat in amongst the greens, smoking. She was tapping away at her Facebook account on her Iphone, communicating with Greg who she was friends with on Facebook. Greg messaged her, saying he was "almost there". Then she logged out and put the phone in her pocket. She lit a cigarette, and then Greg appeared over a wall. Jamie smiled, becoming excited and watched him walking towards her. He wasn't in a school uniform like she was, he went to college. When Greg arrived they said "hey" to each other.


"Jamie. Don't you feel this is weird?" Greg said.

"I don't care" Jamie said. And she didn't.
"I like you, but don't you think this is out of order"
"I won't tell if you won't"
"You are bad"
"So are you"

Jamie didn't give a shit, she really didn't and she was going in for the kill. Greg was too weak to turn back because he did actually like Jamie. Then Jamie threw the cigarette away and kissed Greg, they snogged. Chessie appeared in the field a few meters from them, she was kissing Luke. Jamie heard the presence and one of her eyes saw them, one of Chessie's eyes saw Jamie and Greg, then both girls stopped kissing their boys. Jamie looked at Luke, then Chessie. Chessie looked at Greg and then Jamie.


"What the fuck are you doing?" Chessie said.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Jamie replied.
"You bitch"
"You bitch"

Then the girls went after each other and started fighting, throwing punches and pulling each others hair when the punches didn't connect. The boys didn't know what to do, they were just as shocked as the girls, but more sheepish. They knew they were just as much to blame for the situation, but had to do something, so they pulled the girls a part until they calmed down. Jamie and Chessie had this moment to catch their breaths and stare at each other. Then a strange event happened and they both felt it; they both felt that enough was enough, it was time to stop hating each other because they knew they were just as bad as the other evenly.


"I'm sorry" Jamie said

"I'm sorry" Chessie replied.

Then each girl stormed to their target and Jamie slapped Luke across the face and Chessie slapped Greg across the face.




Wednesday, 30 July 2014

Troublemaker 2

Troublemaker 2

Pairs of students were scattered around the classroom working on a history assignment. Mr Parks was at the front marking papers, he was a mid thirties good looking man, the attention to his work showed he got great pleasure from being a teacher. The silver metaled wedding ring on his finger gleaming proudly, kind of showing off he was a happily married young man where his whole life is together. Jamie and Chessie were partnered up, to the far left of the class, looking as though they were working, but instead had a hidden rock music magazine underneath the history papers, scanning hot guys. They got too excited over one guy and their disruptive outburst caused Mr Parks to look up from his work.

"Jamie, Chessie, quiet" Mr Parks said.

The tone in Mr Parks' voice demanded he'd be listened too and his eyes were strong on his targets. Even though he was a younger teacher than most, the way he executed his command showed he could be strong when he needed to be. Jamie and Chessie took it like it was routine, but were straight back to their devious ways reading the magazine, also like routine.

"I can't stand him or History. It's doing my head in" Jamie said.
"I know. It's stupid" Chessie replied.

They flicked in and out of the History assignment just so they wouldn't fail it altogether. The piece was on something to do with Henry the eighth. Then Jamie's Iphone vibrated and she got a message from a friend through Facebook. She opened up her Facebook App and the friend announced there was going to be a "Kick ass party" that weekend. Jamie posted "All bets are off. Boooooom!" on the timeline, and out of nowhere Mr Parks was standing right over them.

"Right, detention you two. Phone, now" Mr Parks said

Jamie wasn't that much of a rebel to challenge Mr Parks in that situation, so she handed the phone over. Mr Parks walked back to his desk, put the phone in his draw and his hawk brown eyes peered at the naughty kids. Jamie and Chessie kept their heads low to the desk, muttering under their breaths when they saw Mr Parks eyes were coast of clear.

"Parasite. I can't stand him" Jamie said.

The silence in the detention room made it seem like something sinister, like something out of a movie, that's how the girls felt. It was so quiet. The clock ticked and every tock seemed like a hundred seconds than one. Jamie and Chessie were sat on either side of the room, this made them feel even more isolated. Mr Parks was at the front in his usual sitting position with the same concentrated but relaxed expression. Jamie felt like her soul was taking a constant hammering because she was forced to be one on one with her History assignment. She could do it, she wasn't dumb, she just hated the subject.

Both of the girls were thrown into amazement when they saw Mr Parks jabbering away at his mobile phone. They looked at each other from across the room, slightly opened mouthed with looks which spoke "Is he taking the piss?!" Plus, Mr Parks seemed excited, shining differently in a way the girls had never seen before. "He's probably texting his perfect young wife what they are cooking for dinner that night and what wine they were going to have with it, stupid perfect boring cunts" Jamie thought. When the texting was done, Mr Parks saw the girls looking at him but darting back to their work at the same time. The girls thought they were going to receive another teachers lecture, but to their surprise Mr Parks wasn't looking at them. Instead he seemed like the one in the guilt, almost hiding behind his sheets of work sheepishly. Jamie and Chessie looked at each other weirdly.

After school, Jamie and Chessie were in their usual hut out in the nearby fields. They were in a fowled mood, still scowling over the detention and the resentment they had towards Mr Parks and the subject History. Jamie was rattling on about how she would love to see Mr Parks fired somehow, where Chessie was coming up with suggestions as to how that could happen, even though both of them knew it was mainly just unbottling the whining. To the girls amazement! They couldn't believe it when they saw a car pull up at a far end of the field, to see Mr Parks and another younger teacher, Mrs English get out of the car, kissing each other rapidly.

"Isn't that Mr Parks?" Chessie said.
"That's Mrs English with her" Jamie replied and both of the girls looked at each other with OMG!
"Oh. My. God. It is" Jamie continued and they both returned to each other with supercharge in their eyes.
"Come on, let's do some messin" Jamie said.


They both ran towards the car, but carefully not to be seen. Mr Parks and Mrs English had bundled into a barn, in the super heat of passion, almost kissing each others face off. Inside the barn Mr Parks and Mrs English fell on a sack of hay and were really going at each other, tearing each others clothes off as they kissed frantically. Jamie and Chessie arrived at the barn door and peered inside, open mouthed.


“Can you believe it? He’s with Mrs English” Chessie said.
“So much for being married” Jamie replied maliciously.
“I know right”

Mrs English was a brunette, skinny, classic featured mid thirties lady. By this time her glasses were off, her skirt and shirt was eighty percent removed, Mr Parks shirt was off and his trousers were coming down. Jamie had removed her Iphone, loading up the camera.

“Oh go on, you read my mind” Chessie said.

Jamie took pictures, so many it was as though she couldn't take enough. By now Mr Parks had entered Mrs English and was thrusting her in a missionary type position against the hay. Jamie’s eyes grew more and more with devilishness as she took more and more pictures.

“There goes History lessons” Jamie said.
“Right place at the right time hey. We’re so lucky” Chessie replied.

Now Mr Parks bent Mrs English further backwards, a hand gripping each of her ankles, slamming her from upright as she moaned whilst lying on her back. Jamie had got enough pictures, the gleam in her eyes were sick like, sick with triumph.

“Mrs English though! She’s a bit stuck up” Chessie said.
“She’s young like him... Or young for people their age!” Jamie replied. Then they both sneaked away from the barn, running through the field elated.

In class, Mr Parks was walking around the room collecting the pairs of students History assignments. When he arrived at Jamie and Chessie, he took the folder of work from the desk, but not noticing the girls staring at him with laughter ready to burst under their breaths. His wedding ring seemed to shine a lot brighter to them on this occasion. When he sat at his desk, he went through the assignments straight away. Jamie and Chessie were like two balloons filling up, the air ready to release at any moment, as they sniggered as quietly as they could. About half an hour later, Mr Parks pulled out a photo of him and Mrs English having sex from Jamie and Chessie’s assignment, his heart sank, but that followed immediately with fiery attention on the girls.

“Jamie, Chessie, outside with me. Now!” Mr Parks shouted.

They girls found it funny so much they were laughing as they left the room. The rest of the students jumped like they never had done before when Mr Parks shouted at the girls, they looked at each other surprised at the side they never thought was in the good looking, love for being a teacher, teacher. Outside the girls stood by the wall and Mr Parks faced them directly.

“Is this some sort of joke?” Mr Parks said.
“No. This is our trade to getting out of History and you giving us an A this term” Jamie replied.
“To the principles office. Now”
“Shut up, you can't do anything. Not if you don't want your wife to find out about this” Jamie continued.
"Yeah" Chessie added.

Jamie held up more pictures of the incident and put them away again quicker. Mr Parks said nothing and his state went neutral. Jamie and Chessie sensed victory when they saw the transformation in him, it seemed they had literally out beaten their teacher!

“Fine. The two of you are excused from History” Mr Parks said.

And that was that, he darted into the room. Then returned a few moments later with the girls bags.

“And if you tell anybody about this, I will have you both expelled. Pictures getting out or not. Got it!”
“Yes” the girls replied simultaneously.

In her room, Jamie layed on her bed texting to her boyfriend Luke. She was excited to be meeting him that day, being Saturday. When she confirmed to meet him at one, she put her phone on the bed and went into a ponder. It seemed like a mission that could only be accomplished in the movies; how she got out of History for the rest of the year, she thought. How she did it, she still didn't know, perhaps she just got lucky, but still patted herself on the back for a job well achieved. A touch of emotion came when she thought about "poor old Mr Parks" and how he must have been feeling. But Jamie's soul was a large degree cold and always thought "In  order to get ahead, some people have to get burnt" an attitude which kept her devious ways going, and one day will be her downfall, although she didn't know that yet.

Jamie's mum entered her room and gave Jamie her History exams scores which came through the post. Jamie opened them with a look of expectance, and what she saw was an "A". She punched the air knowing it was kind of coming like a fixed boxing fight, then texted Chessie the news and got a reply two seconds later that she had got an "A" too.


Saturday, 26 July 2014

Old Before Your Time

Old Before Your Time

It was a Saturday night and she sat on the settee knitting, a cup of coco by her side and Strictly Come Dancing on the TV. Her name was Melanie, a Canadian. She had a softly spoken voice and the most golden hair, the type you saw on a retriever. Melanie enjoyed her knitting, her current project was a baby boys onesie. The bottom half was complete, she was now knitting the top half. Thoughts took hold of her mind from time to time as she knitted; that it being a Saturday night and she was in, doing some would call 'grandma' stuff instead of being out with her friends. She got a text message on her Iphone and it was her friend Bell who wanted to know for a final time if she was coming out. Melanie text back saying she was fine staying in and for them to have a good time.

Once Strictly had finished, Melanie put on the Sky recorded X Factor. She did this every Saturday, she loved her X Factor, but Strictly always came first. The baby's onesie was coming along. Soon enough she went to make another cup of coco. As she waited for the kettle to boil she thought about her boyfriend, Henry who was out with his friends that night. Melanie's old before her time ways picked at Henry a bit, Melanie knew this. But Henry wasn't going to make it a massive issue of it because that was a thing which made Melanie un-perfect, but it did raise slight concerns. The kettle boiled and Melanie made her coco, she went back into the front room and all of a sudden worry filled her mind of something bad going to happen. She didn't know what it was, but it was present and she couldn't fully relax for a while.

The next morning, Melanie was at the dinning table in the kitchen, whilst Henry was busy at work on the stoves making the Sunday fry up. Melanie watched him do this, it made her giggle how seriously Henry took those fry ups, also knowing it was one of his proud rituals. Henry was American, very successful for twenty four, he already had two businesses and two properties. Soon enough he sat the plates down, kissed his woman, said to enjoy and they tucked in. By the end of the meal, there was a look in Henry's eye. It was something Melanie had never seen before and he hit her with it.

"Babe. It isn't working out" Henry said.

Melanie was shell shocked. They then had the biggest discussion of their lives, but Melanie sensed it was only heading one way; she was being dumped. She wasn't foolish enough to believe Henry needed her more than she needed him, but as the conversation plateaued, she knew Henry had made his decision and was sticking to it, he was good at that. She begged for the reasons why he wanted to end it which Henry gave reasons, but not the hidden motive and she realized Henry was doing this not to hurt her feelings even more. She knew she was being dumped because she was boring and one of those who were old before their time, the way everyone said she was from the age of five.

It was another Saturday and Melanie was working in the local launderette. Her face was more tired, baggy and her body looked weaker. From a strangers perspective she seemed far too young and beautiful to look that worn out. Melanie was ironing sheets, lost in thoughts of her life. She was too tough to let her recent life's mishaps crash and burn her, so she fought on and the launderette job was weekend work for extra money. She needed it now she was living on her own, her day job only just scraped her by, she had to work seven days a week until she got a better paid job. She prepared to iron the next lump of sheet amongst the mountains she still had to do.

Paul walked into the launderette, he was a tall half bald old British man in his seventies. It was his usual routine Saturday washing time. He got his clothes started in the machine, sat down and read his newspaper, the same paper every Saturday. He and Melanie were familiar with each other by now, waved, said "Hi" sharpening the saw of small talk. It did catch Paul's attention; Melanie's young and beautiful nature being taken over by the stressed out life of a mid wife at forty five. Likewise Melanie thought about Paul; how his life was in his old age, how routine he was, he was probably a Virgo she thought. Underneath the analysis, Melanie sensed Paul was lonely, which he was, and Paul sensed Melanie was lonely, which she was.

"You do a fabulous job" Paul said as he was leaving, Melanie folding sheets.
"Thank you" Melanie replied.
"Pop round for tea sometime"

From the delivery, Melanie knew the offer came from someone seeking a friend, and it made her happy because she really needed one at this point. Plus Paul really reminded her of her granddad she missed dearly back in Canada, along with the rest of her family. She replied "OK" and Paul wrote his address down on a piece of paper and gave it to her.

It was just like Melanie thought, Paul was a hermit. He sat in his same spot in the front room, watched his same programs at exactly the same times, he ate the same foods at exactly the same times, he went to bed and got up in the mornings at exactly the same times. She had known him for a while now and as much as she wanted to say to him that sometimes he could be "too so" she agreed to let him be himself because that was everyone's right. It was a Thursday night and they were watching Masterchef, the pair of them loved this program. Paul let out his whales at the TV, getting really into it. Melanie liked the comfort of the simple two bedroom flat which Paul rented off the landlord catered for by his pension.

Sometimes Melanie took time to watch Paul as his single minded mind was glued to the TV. It turned out his wife had passed away some years ago and now he had been on his own for more than ten years. Melanie could tell Paul really wanted to meet someone new, or just something to change in his life, but he was unfortunately stuck in that flat and the area because it was all his pension would allow him. But still it was nice company Melanie felt, she didn't have anyone these days; she hadn't met anyone else, her friends had ditched her because they were moving on from her boring ways, and as she remembered, Paul reminded her of her family. It was never going to be anything more than that, although she was sure romance had crossed Paul's mind even just once. He was a guy after all.

They walked along the park, it was a really hot Saturday. It was a lovely suggestion Melanie thought and was a refreshing change after her eight till four shift at the launderette. Paul needed the exercise as his legs were aging by the day. Soon they found a place to sit on the floor and relax. They talked about things, it was really cool Melanie felt how they always had new things to talk about even though they didn't do any new. Paul was a very wise man and sarcastic and he could always find useful knowledge on topics to share. To Melanie's surprise and un-comfort she saw Henry in the park with what looked to be his new girlfriend. He saw her and stopped then did something Melanie wouldn't have expected, he waved her over. She didn't know why she went, she should have turned the other way she thought, but she didn't and put it down to weakness. She told Paul she'd be right back before she left.

"Hi Melanie" Henry said.
"Hi" Melanie replied.
"This is Patsy". Melanie and Patsy greeted somewhat awkwardly..
"Is everything OK?" Henry said.
"Yes" Melanie replied.
"Why are you with that old guy?"
"He's my friend"

Henry looked at Paul and then Melanie with confusion. His kind of shallow girlfriend was exactly the same. From his position, Paul felt for the first time the reality of things, watching his new best friend find the birds she was meant to be with.

At Paul's, Masterchef was on the TV. Paul seemed a touch different, Melanie sensed this but it didn't seem like an issue. Then the door bell rang.

"Don't worry, I'll get it" Melanie said.
"OK" Paul replied.

Melanie jumped up leaving Paul glued to the TV. It was the semi finals and Melanie knew Paul didn't want to miss a second. At the door, Ken, a twenty one year old young professional just like Melanie stood. Melanie was twenty one, but she wouldn't call herself a professional yet because she hadn't found a job with a proper career. Ken said he was having a barbecue the next weekend and that all the neighbors were invited. Melanie said she'd let Paul know and that they would both definitely go. Ken was a half Thai, half English striking guy. Totally working class and Melanie found that attractive because it brought out a kind of fearlessness nature in Ken. He had lived above Paul's flat for about six months on his own.

Back in the front room, Melanie told Paul about Ken's barbecue, Paul responded with positive feedback followed with a double barrel.

"You should go out with him" Paul said.
"How do you mean? I'm not dater right now" Melanie replied.
"But you have to at some point and you know it". Melanie knew part of this was true.
"As much as I love your company, it isn't healthy for a young bird to be wrapped around old feathers all the time. You are twenty one and you should be mixing with other young birds".

Melanie appreciated Paul's straightness, that was one of his best qualities. Again, she liked his company just for what it was, no more, no less. And that she was one of those people who were the 'young old' type. But it was true, it was time to mix with her years again.

At the launderette, Melanie was working, putting a customers sheets into one of the machines. Ken walked in with no bags and went to her.

"Hey Melanie" Ken said.
"Hey Ken" Melanie replied.
"I think we are being set up"
"Really? By who?"
"Paul"
"Really? I thought he might"
"I think it is quite cute. He's a really good man"
"Yes he is"
"I'll be happy to go out if you are" Charm smothered Melanie's face and soul, not just about Ken, but Paul too.
"Sure".

Ken left and Melanie couldn't help to feel so happy, she felt like a ten year old who just got their first peck on the lips. Ken was awesome, so handsome she thought, and felt ready to build her life back up properly again, in all areas. Then she thought about Paul and how much of a rock he was.