Hello all . I doubt all of you read this, but this was my entry for Mel and Cin's contest a while ago . I certainly hope my BB codes don't fail. The dark blue is her talking to herself and the indigo is kind of her "dark side" rebelling against her. I posted this for those entering the contest, who do not know what a one shot is. Warning: You may want to shoot the character out of pure annoyance at the end. She is designed to be irritating. Okay. Tata. Here's what happened tonight in one sentence: IT SUCKED. Okay, well, that's a little bland. Okay here it goes: So I got promoted to senior executive in work today, I work for a fashion company in New York City, wait, that was the good part of the day... anyway, so my boyfriend of three years kinda left me, but it was totally understandable, like he went off to the military, which has been like his dream, and he told me not to wait for him, and I kinda think he has the idea of dating some military chick... and it's pouring rain right now, and it's like 1 AM, and what am I doing up this hour... I had to stay at work to do some finishing touches for the fashion show this weekend, the big boss is coming and she wants "something new". *takes a huge breath* Woah! So cool! I said that in one sentence and one breath. NOT! Fine. No need to be rude. Anyway, there's a bunch of male models coming for the fashion show, so I have to look forward to that. NOT. Male models are just as horrible as female ones. So yeah, that's why my day sucked. Oh I forgot, the Marie Claire magazine featuring me finally came out. The interview was well intact and true for the most part, but the picture of me... Holy. I think they totally edited my nose, there's no way my nose is that big.... Who is this stupid girl? There are children starving in the world!!! Okay, I get it, but hello? Isn't a break-up tragic?! Maybe not as bad as children starving, but you know, it's horrible enough for a twenty-one year old young adult, who works in a fashion industry already! Oh yeah, I never told you about that. You see, I started sewing and doing fashion since I was probably about seven; my mum and I did that together, she was a fashion designer too. She passed away when I was around twelve and we were just about go finish our spring collection together. Anyway, she helped me land some major brownie points and she got me into F.I.T. (Fashion Institute of Technology) when I was fifteen. So yeah, I went to college really early; I had no friends obviously. I was the little noob prodigy, since everyone was older. I graduated at age nineteen and I spent my graduation "party" at my mother's grave. She was the only one who understood me. I brought "us" an ice cream cake, and sat there and ate the whole thing myself. I know it sounds overly dramatic and all, but that's really what happened! I swear! You're also probably wondering how I had a relationship, since I was in college. key word: had . Suck it up, stupid girl! I know! Okay, sorry, I'm not over it yet! Well, he went to high school, and I went to college. So simple. It's not illegal, since I was underage at the time. It was difficult, yeah, but you know, love takes people very far... Not very far... Oh shut up, will you? Anyway... So after college, I moved to New York City alone because I had no family members near the hugest fashion capital in America. So yep. I live alone. New York City really scares me sometimes. I've never been to the scary neighborhoods, but wouldn't you be scared if you were walking alone at night? No, you're just a loser. Why are you being so mean to me! *cries* Anyway, back to reality. I'm standing at a bus stop... in the pouring rain... at 1 AM, because that's what everyone does, right? Psst. Yeah right. My EX-boyfriend is normally my ride, but you know, he's in some military base. Now I'm forced to public transportation. I've never exactly been on a bus before... I hope I don't embarrass myself. Don't you have a personal chauffeur, you snob? Well no, I don't have a personal chauffeur. I'm honestly, a middle class, working American. Why don't you just catch a cab? Yep. Still too expensive. I'm extremely afraid that someone will mug me. I don't see anyone shady really, but hello? I'm carrying a collector's item from the new Gucci line! I'm not rich, just to remind you again; the purse was a gift from my boss. All the clothes I wear come from the company. Occasionally, I go to SoHo and shop there; I love Top Shop, but I spend most of my money paying for my apartment, and now, public transportation. I pick up a card from the train station, so I wouldn't have to fish out change for the bus. It finally shows up, I show the driver my card and I sit down near the middle. There's only one other person on the bus, but I don't pay attention to him. Another person gets on too, a homeless man. He walks up to me, "Spare change, spare change." OMG! What do I do?! I've never been in a situation like this! i frantically think of ideas. I am so not getting mugged tonight. Wait... I know a bit of French... "Quoi?" I hear myself say, "Je ne comprends pas!" He looks at me with a puzzled expression and gets off at the next stop. I smoothed down my blouse and smirk proudly at my handling of the situation. "Your French is très horrible," I hear voice from behind me, with a perfect French accent and rolled "r's". I turn around mysterious man laughing at me. I turn probably the deepest shade of red ever, which is noticeable against my porcelain skin. His dirty blonde hair is styled like Leonardo Dicaprio's and his dark eyes are surrounded by a thick coat of long eyelashes. He's wearing cologne from Versace; I recognize the scent because of Jeremy, my co-worker. His navy blue v-neck is topped off with a black blazer, black dress pants, and leather shoes. He looks like a million bucks; so why is he taking public transportation? "I should ask the same about you," he responds to me. "I didn't mean.." I stop mid-sentence and slap my own face in my mind; I can't believe I said that out loud! If I were him, I would've slapped you! Stop, I'm already embarrassed enough! "So answer my question," he says. "You never asked one," I respond in my "cooperate-with-your-irritating-client-voice". "So this is how it's going to be?" a playful smile forms on his lips. "Maybe," I smile smugly back at him. I get up and press the touch tape to get off at the next stop. ••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• I walk to my apartment on 34th Street, walk up to my room floor and get my key out to unlock the door. CREEEEKK. What was that? I turn around and see mystery man trying to hide behind a fake cactus. "You're Elena Scott, right?" he asks. "Now you're stalking me?" I smirk, "and yeah I am." You wish he was... Shut it! I feel special for once... "The 21 year old prodigy, yeah I read your article in Marie Claire," he says professionally. I try to hold my laughter in, but it comes out really loudly, "I'm," snorts, "so sorry," I snort, "Marie Claire is a women's magazine!" Keep embarrassing yourself, idiot. He totally finds that attractive. Shush! I thought my joke was funny! "Don't laugh at me, tell my manager!" he says. "Why do you have to read that then?" I take a deep breath and stop laughing. "He wants us male models to keep up with female fashion, so we're not making fun of their outfits during the fashion show," he responds. That's how he knows so much French! No shiz, Sherlock. . I choke on my saliva, "You're a male model?" Duhhh. He's smoking. Ahem. There are plenty smoking guys that are not make models. Like my ex boyfriend. Key word: Ex. Why do you hate me?! "What? Am I not hot enough? I do have a six pack, if you were wondering," he smirks. I blush again feeling the warmth of my cheeks rise. "Are you going to be attending the fashion show?" he asks me. "Yes, my company is putting out our newest collection," I respond. "I'm modeling for Armani. I'll see you there," he smirks. "For the record, you're not hot enough to be a male model," I joke to him. EVEN THOUGH YOU TOTALLY ARE, OKAY. "I'm a bit hurt by that," he responds pouting, "but you're not too bad looking, Ms. Prodigy." "Thanks...." I start to say realizing I don't know his name. "My name is Andres Wislow, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Ms. Prodigy. "
this is really goodyou're not competing, are you? ?I don't want to be trampled in the dust too much