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Friends and in between
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Hunted By The Player Cowardice
“Hello,” I speak, realizing that he certainly knows me.“Jonathan.” He seems to read my mind. “From the dance classes at the community center.”“Oh.” My best response in a while.“You scared everyone in the studio with your accident. Glad that nothing serious happened. I was very worried about you.”I notice the tribal tattoos on his right arm but try not to stare. I focus on the ground as he chatters beside me while I walk onwards.“How often did we meet up?”He gets confused and thinks about it. “When you took stiletto class and almost every day here on the beach to run,” he reports to me.“Okay. Jonathan, right?” He nods. “I lost my memory in the accident.” I drop the news like a bomb, being direct, realising it is no longer a bother.“I'm sorry. I kind of noticed something different.” I thought he was going to pull away with the sudden revelation, but it is quite the opposite.“In my mind I'm twenty years old and I'd be grateful if you didn't tell anyone.” I make a pleading face.
Hunted By The Player Jonathan
I choose a tight black dress with sheer rips. I’m not sure where I got the dress. I add nude heels to the outfit. I look at the clock on my cellphone and see that my salon time is almost ready. I give my mom a kiss and take the elevator.I am more than needing to revamp everything, starting with my hair, which I am particularly loving for being long. I start with the nails and lean back to enjoy as I get my toenails and fingernails done. Next is the hair and I decide not to make drastic changes so I opt for Californian locks, which turns out to be a golden and light tone. My side bangs that have grown just below the chin are cut just below the nose While my hairdresser, Ana, finishes brushing my hair, I enter the Instagram application which I learned to use over the phone with Katrina. Who would have thought I would be so faithful to my passwords?I roll the touchscreen down with my thumb, revealing photos of celebrity actors and artists that I understand I'm following. My thumb freez
Hunted By The Player Slap
"Never mind, I'll find someone like you." Adele- “Someone Like You”It is a tender kiss, just lips to lips, no bad intentions and no ringing bells, head spinning and feet still perched on the ground. I open my eyes in awe and my reaction scares him, making me scared too.“I should apologize, but I don't regret it.” He goes back to driving. We sit in silence for several minutes. “It would be nice if you said something.”“Would it be strange to say that the last kiss I remember was three years ago?” He laughs. “I need to go home.”“You love him, don't you?” he blurts. I look confused at him. “The player,” he clarifies.“It's complicated. I don't know who he is or how he kisses.” I try to say it with humor but it doesn't turn out as I planned.“I hope that doesn't change our friendship,” Jonathan says when I press the button to unbuckle my seatbelt.“All right.”I walk out on shaky legs and wave to him right after I type in the building password and the door is unlocked.*Stella Castell
Hunted By The Player I need your love
He continued, “The first time was just a few days before the betrayal with Samantha and the other the end of the sting was when you caught me having sex with another woman” I couldn’t imagine this ever happening in my life. His slap in my face was so hard I almost couldn't get up.I open my eyes and put my hand to my temples. They are burning like I was just punched in the face. My eyes water with sudden tears.“Y-you hit me. Twice.” I stare at the granite table, humiliated.“I was on drugs and wasn’t thinking right,” is his excuse.“I don’t know if you remember but you slapped me back and kicked me twice in my balls” he claimed sheepishly as I almost cried and laughed out loud at the same time. This was absolutely ridiculous!“I hope your conscience will weigh you down for the rest of your life,” I repeat to him what I told him before I left. I remember everything. I speak out to myself, scared.“My conscience is heavy,” he admits. “You didn't deserve someone like me back then. You w
Hunted By The Player Jealousy
I open another e-mail that corresponds to Spanish Vogue, signed to me by Stella Castellano, Chief Director of the magazine. More details and more names appear in the office, besides the confirmed luxury hotel in Paris and my goals in the show. I will have to get an exclusive interview with some stylist. I look at the date and remember that the event will take place in just six days.I walk out onto the balcony and watch the movement five floors below me. People are coming and going, with their yellow smiles, their kids with bad hair and cars in a huge line because of the congestion of so many cars that passed by the famous Hilton at the end of February. As much as I love the heat and the sun and the yellow hue of life it gives each day, I am gray inside. As if a cloud came down inside me, leaving my own sun hidden and refusing to do its job: make me smile.I sit on the couch alone again like every afternoon, looking around as if I have nothing to do but look like a pot. I look at the
Hunted By The Player I am going home
“I brought your bank statements.” Mom walks inside my room and hands me my credit card and statements. At the end of the paper marks One-hundred twenty-five thousand dollars is in black ink as if it were any value.Did twenty-three-year-old Selena actually make all of this money?“What is this?” I approach, my eyes extracting. Am I seeing this right? “Mom, there’s a serious mistake here.” I lift the paper as if the internal printer had malfunctioned.“Life insurance,” my mother explains and an idea pops into my mind and I look like someone who has an idea of the century. “Why that face?”“The face of someone who's going to do it right?” I speak like a little girl and with a thin voice. I slump down into the chair, holding my head, exhausted but mostly angry with myself“Selena, what exactly are you going to do now?” my mother runs her hand over her head anxiously. She gets up from the bed and starts walking up and down several times in the room.“Hunter went out with a bleached blon
Hunted By The Player What brought you here
HunterSnow is falling heavily outside the Camp Nouveau stadium and the euphoria for my professional side is at a level that is difficult to explain. There are journalists surrounding me on all sides, urging to know when my contract will finally be consolidated.Alan said he is going home so he doesn’t make a fuss about going to my place.I look at the pretty blonde beside me who maybe my distant future, or even by next year, help me get settled. I get into the blue R8 and drive, but as slowly as possible. It didn't even snow last year but now this year, about to enter spring, snow devastates the entire city.“I will definitely miss this city a lot.”As much as Alison says things that interest me, my attention is not focused on her. It is focused on the snow that seems to consolidate to me, feeling the same as I do. I fucking need to get HER out of my head.I park the Audi next to the black Lamborghini and admit that I am relieved that Sophia has returned with her know-it-all boyfrien
Hunted By The Player Reaching places
“I found out I was being beaten up by my ex and it was killing me inside because in my head I had never told anyone. Then I saw pictures of you with a peroxide piranha and I felt jealous and everything consolidated when I found out that I have more than one hundred and twenty thousand dollars in my account.” I’m chatting too much and he’s giving me that annoying smile I like so much.“Jealousy?” He raises an eyebrow. I nod with my head. “Do you know that I'm the only world champion being cuckolded publicly?” Arrogance is at the fore in his speech.He leans forward and holds my chin lifting my face upward. He parted his lips and brought them closer to mine. He looked deeply into my eyes for a few seconds as though looking out for any signs of hesitation. I looked back into those blue eyes which radiated only pure love and honesty. I kissed him as though it was my first time, his lips responded equally as we tried to quench each other’s thirst. It’s hard to form a response after that.
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