CEO, Image and Love
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Leese Evans is nineteen years old when she meets a painter who would stay in her town for a few weeks. But through a friendship, the two fall in love. He's a CEO, who works with photographs, models. After an affair between the two, Marco decides to run away when he sees her with another man, thinking he was with him. After that, she tries to contact him because she was pregnant with him. And everything changes. Through a while, he returns to town and review her, engaged and with a baby. The two can't stay apart and have an affair, but she decides to get married. Her husband dies, before that he asks her to stay with Marco, for he has always been her true love. They get married, and they have two more kids
The world shines in a different way tonight. I really need a bigger T-shirt and less makeup on my face, I remember exactly the college girls looking for casual romance.
Maybe I need it too. Maybe?
Maybe agreeing to go out with a total stranger wasn't such a good idea, it's so cold and lonely that part of me freezes from the lack of interest, not the weather.
My feet are frozen and this is the first time I have ever entered a bar. A stinky bar that can't find any young girls my age or any guy who was a woman. What face brings a girl to such a peaceful place like this?
There is a smell of burning oil, wet earth and dust. Something is dead here, I am sure of it.
I've been waiting for a cab for almost fifteen minutes and none show up, due to the time of day or the location. Maybe I should call my sister and leave all this chaos behind once and for all. Although she will kill me if she finds out that I went out with someone through a dating site.
Why the hell did I install something so humiliating?
I hear footsteps and raise my eyes, but I can't see anything in front of me. The street is deserted and silence is my only company. I really must call Jessie.
"Come back here, girl!" I hear him call out and try my best to ignore it, unmoving, although I am scared to death at this point.
A forced kiss was enough for someone who is scared in a place like this, to have to feel a boy holding me the way he had held me was frightening.
The cars parked here are old, with many trees around. What is this place that I am only now getting to know? Maybe it's on the other side of town, I don't deny the agony it is to have certain paranoia in my head at this moment. I have watched many documentaries, I know what happens next and I will not give this a chance.
I hold my cell phone in my hands and feel my arm being pulled tightly. I turn around scared and feel that in that dark some screaming wouldn't be worth much.
"Are you leaving already?" He asks, shaking his curly hair back.
"Look, Mike..." I start.
"Michael! Right, Michael." I say terrified. "It's late, I have to go."
I lift the cell phone to dial Jessie's number and feel it being grabbed and snatched out of my hands by Michael, violently. I scream with fright and hear him smiling, perhaps intoxicated.
"You're kidding, right? Because you just got here!"
"I don't want to stay here." I turn around.
A new cell phone wouldn't be a problem. But I feel my arm being dragged again, I turn around in alarm, Michael grabs my body close and I think about screaming again. I look closely at the cold features of his face, and nothing compares to the pictures on the website. Here, the boy has clear eyes and dry, white lips. On the cell phone he is a totally different person, with a pink mouth and red cheeks.
I should have been suspicious when the taxi driver brought me to this end of the world.
I think about screaming.
Someone arrives from the shadows, sneaky, as if they know exactly what they are doing, and I close my eyes. Michael's body has been pulled from mine in a violently blunt way, and I cringe in fear, not wanting to open my eyes.
I am terrified, and not seeing the scene would be less painful, strange.
"Leave her alone, stench!" shouts the other man and I hear the sound of bodies, and I feel fear agonizing every part of my body.
Violence in the city occurs every day. Mostly in bars and gatherings in party houses, today I am learning and knowing frequent reasons why it occurs. I am definitely the opposite of brave.
I grip the side of my dress and pray that all of this will pass soon.
Another hand touches my fingertips and I open my eyes, afraid, that's when I realize that they had turned off the lights in the bar and I can't see the man's face, at least not clearly. But his height is greater than mine and he doesn't look like Michael.
"Here is your cell phone." His voice is briefly thick, in a weak, rustic tone, and I feel the cold metal in my fingers, and I hold it tight and say nothing. "Are you okay? Did he hurt you?"
I deny. I have nothing to say, and probably nothing coherent will come out of my mouth.
"You are trembling. I don't think it's this sector. What are you doing here at this hour?" He has a deep voice, unlike any other man I have ever heard in my life, his question makes me wonder if I know him or not, and I try to look around for Michael." Rest assured, the punch I threw will make him run away."
"Who are you?" I decide to ask and hear him laugh, letting go of me.
I don't want him to let me go, I feel that I am protected with him against all the boys who want to hurt me in front of this bar, but I also don't want him to know this victimized, desperate detail.
"Get out of here while I'm still around."
"Thank you." I answer, narrowing my eyes, hoping to try to see him, but it was useless. I turn my back and reach for my cell phone and dial my older sister's number, who answers quickly." Mia, come get me." I hiccup in fright.
"Where are you at this hour? Are you okay?" she asks, worried.
"I'm fine." I turn and look at the closed bar door, and the last corner light goes up, where it shows the back of the blond man who had protected me, and just be running away.
He didn't bother to look back, but I watch closely as his body breaks through the darkness and his silhouette is strictly straight. What are the chances of that happening to someone else? A totally unknown man, reserved and vague, but who demonstrated a great quality, altruism. Either he is crazy about adventure, or he really wanted to be kind.
Is there anyone kind?
" Leeze! I'm talking to you." I hear my sister shout on the other end of the phone and I crack a smile. "What's wrong? Has something happened?"
I look at the entrance to the bar, empty.
1 YEAR LATER
For a long time I believed that lying was something very bad, but over the months the "bad" became worse. I cannot receive the lie and say that it is something common, or even pretend to believe it, but something about it irritates me and I can never say that the end justifies the means.
No! My principles do not allow me to put up with lying.
I am buying some birthday balloons, and to think that I can afford enough to have someone do it for me, I am happy with myself for trying something better for me, and for my growth. Sure, my mother doesn't agree with my choice to do everything myself and with my own hands, but I need this and this divine freedom that is surviving the chaos of democracy.
I come home after a few hours of deciding everything, prepare the first objects in the room and put both hands on my waist, close my eyes and try not to lose my patience.
"Mia!" I shout to my sister from the kit
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