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Hunted By The Player I have no idea
We enter the house giggling with each other, and I find Hunter coming down the stairs in a crisp black Armani blazer and his Italian-style hair pulled to the side.“I see the conversation was good.” He catches me off guard, greeting, kissing me almost on the corner of my mouth.My neck tingles from the touch of his hand on my neck. “It was great,” I manage to say in a trance and completely bewildered.“So come tell me.” He sits on the huge sofa and I look back, checking for Sophia, but of course she's already gone.I sit on the couch next to him, keeping my usual distance.“She gave me a job,” I reveal, relaxing.“That's great!” He opens a smile from ear to ear that makes me melt a little. That was a genuine expression of happiness for me from his end. What the fuck is happening to me?“Better yet, I don't need to be going to Madrid to finish work. Maybe I have to go there once or twice but that's the least of it.” I try to smile.“Nothing better could have happened to you.” He puts
Hunted By The Player Gone girl
“I knew I had done the right thing. At least I thought I had. Life has become a disaster. In real life, it is often almost impossible to say which decision to make, because what is gained and what is lost are often equivalent to ‘Watermelon’.”I could not sleep. My conscience was too heavy to even close my eyes. Hunter's fault for screeching away, turning off his cellphone and leaving Sophia worried is all mine. Besides that, I am also having a nervous breakdown.I check the bedside clock and see it’s past midnight and I’m totally exhausted from flipping through the channels on the TV. I turn off the useless crap for the moment and cover myself with the blanket up to my head, trying to assure myself that everything is okay.I hear the loud noise of a powerful engine pulling into the garage. Thank you, my God, for bringing him home safe and sound, I pray silently.Relief runs through my entire body but the guilt remains in me. No wonder, you just destroyed his feelings, my sub conscien
Hunted By The Player Familia
Selena“Mom?” I look at the line that stretches in front of me as I make my way towards the airstrip’s exit. I press the phone closer to my ear.“Selena, you alright?” is my mom’s concerned voice. How she always manages to know what I feel.“I'm coming back home.” I hand over my ticket and my document and the service lady checks it.“Oh my God.” The line goes muted on the other side.“I'm already boarding the plane.” I walk slower because I am almost on the plane.“I love you, daughter.”“I love you too, Mom.”I can't take it anymore and cry when I settle into the seat.''You're right! But for the wrong reasons! And that makes you totally wrong!" Stephen KingI look through the plane’s window at the completely clear sky of Panama, already feeling the heat that the city always brought me. A feeling of comfort comes to me, allowing me to bask in the seat and open a huge smile.I wait for my suitcase to show up impatiently. It is the last one, no surprise there. My mind always thought ab
Hunted By The Player That was weird
I can’t stand being alone at home anymore and because of that I'm already missing Sophia's games and laughter around me, taking care of me as if I were a baby. Thanking the most for this current hot sun, as I couldn't stand the cold of Barcelona anymore, I put on shorts and a tank top and head towards what I most wanted to see.The sea I remember was not as gray as this today and yet it makes me feel at home but not completely at home as I wanted it to be. Deep down inside, something was missing.Sitting here makes me think that I rushed into my life in Barcelona. I want to pretend my life there isn't my reality, but seeing my parents separated is not a normal thing for me either. I watch the tourists, especially Europeans at this time of year, making the biggest fuss on the beach and acting as though their problems have been forgotten for that period of time.When the late-afternoon wind starts to blow, I get up and start walking idly down the street, looking like an aimless person
Hunted By The Player Back to college
I dream of the man leaning over me again and leaving me in a bottomless void. I look at the time on my cellphone and its past noon. I think I flip over because of the jet leg. My body hasn’t gotten used to the local Panama time. A handwritten note from my mother informs me that I have my car keys and blows me a kiss.I take my cellphone out of my pocket and type my dad's number. The electronic voice tells me the number doesn't exist and then it just comes to my mind that my dad could have changed the number since living here three years earlier.I call my mother, who is at a meeting, and ask for my father's number. She gives it to me as soon as possible.“Hello.” My dad answers on the third ring.“Hi Dad, it's me.” I put my hand in the pocket of my shorts, not knowing what to do.“Hi daughter, I miss you, how is Barcelona?”“Dad, I'm at home.”He hesitates a moment and finally understands what I mean. “Of course, you are. And how are you feeling?”I sit on the sofa and look out over
Hunted By The Player Friends and in between
“Ricardo,” I greet him, smiling. This irritating voice could only be of one person.“Hello babe.” He kisses my hand. “You brought him, didn't you?”I look at Katrina, confused.“He means Hunter,” my friend clarifies.“Sorry, we're not together anymore,” I reveal to him.His smile drops along with mine. “Every time I see you, you are not together anymore. This is a plot against me, not getting to know that magic. You must be afraid he'll fall in love with me, it’s quite possible he could.” He rolls his eyes.“I guarantee you that's not it.” I smile.“Never mind, I don't talk about bad things. What's your shoe size?” He looks at my feet.“Thirty.” I replyHe writes it down in a small notebook. “Let's go to the car and choose a pair of espadrilles as a gift for you. Katrina already has hers.”I glance at Katrina, who has her face resting in her palm, smiling.“I cannot accept,” I say.“Don't give me this talk. Then you choose,” Ricardo says.“Only if you customize one for me to buy and I
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
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