WANTING MOORE
Chapter One: Maizy
By the time I arrived at the frost-covered glass doors of the modeling agency, Candid Darlings, I couldn't recognize my own reflection.
I stared at the stranger with glossy eyes, lips slightly chapped with the bite of midwinter. The harsh icy winds blew my loose blonde curls into disarray. My skin was sticky and sheened with nervous sweat, yet I was shivering all at once, causing my light makeup to become smeared.
Today, things did not seem to be in my favor. I lost some of my luggage at the airport, I broke my heel climbing onto the city bus, and after this interview, I had no idea where I was going to go. I came here on a whim. Just some luggage and a dream.
A dream to get the fuck out of the small town of Elkton, Kentucky. I never was one for muddied shoes and dirt paths. Of being a housewife with four children; two boys and two girls like my mother wanted. It wasn't me. I wanted out. I wanted luxury. Finery. Silk robes and champagne.
Not hard whiskey and a herniated disc.
To live on my mother's farm until marriage did not sound like a dream, it sounded like a nightmare, and I wanted out.
I placed my white-mittened hand against the door, giving it a push.
However, it didn't budge.
"Pull" Read the slightly torn sticker right above the handle in bold, red letters.
I huffed out a misty breath and gave the heavy door a struggled pull.
Nothing could dampen my spirits. I wouldn't let anything get in my way of this once-in-a-lifetime chance. I would head straight into the restroom, tidy myself up, and make my way before an agent to discuss my future works as they regarded me. I couldn't believe that my application, out of the hundreds of those who applied, was taken keenly, a one-way plane ticket paid for courtesy of the agency as they were so eager to have me.
I was twenty–four years old, moving quickly to twenty–five. Not a husband in sight nor did I want one. I wanted my youth. I wanted freedom and this opportunity would grant me that. I didn't wish to settle down so soon despite my mother's nagging about how I am not getting any younger.
She disapproved strongly of this trip, the prior night exclaiming it was a mistake. Ultimately, after hours of disagreement and the fact neither of us would change our stance, her love for me won merely insisting I be careful and to come home if I were in trouble.
"Can I help you?"
I jolted out of my skin, staring bug-eyed at the receptionist who glared at me from over her mauve rectangular glasses. "Um— hello! I uh—um." I took a deep breath, steadying my shrill voice. "I apologize it's cold—"
"Do you need something?" She inquired impatiently, her stern expression causing faint wrinkles to crease the corners of her mouth. Her thin red hair was pulled back into a tight bun, her ensemble made up of a red ruffled shirt, black slacks, and heeled boots peeking from under the desk.
I flushed immensely, my jacket sticking to me like a second skin.
"I'm looking for um, Mallory Athers—"
"So is everyone else here, have a seat." The receptionist motioned to the seating area with a pen, where dolled-up women with long, elegant legs and pretty faces sat. Some had pixie cuts, waist-length curls, short tight curls, pretty, unblemished skin peeked from their garments; all sorts of shades.
While each was different, they all had one thing in common.
Their striking appearances.
And suddenly, I felt out of place, tugging my worn hat over my ears.
"Is there a restroom I can use?"
"Down the hall to the left." The receptionist said without looking away from her screen.
I dragged my noisy suitcase down the polished white corridor, one wheel broken, clicking in and out of place as I guided it haphazardly.
I almost bumped the suitcase into a passing woman, causing me to jerk back with an apologetic smile. The smile soon wavered when I tipped backwards into another person.
"I'm sorry I—"
The menacing look I received was enough to drain the pink color of my prior embarrassments from my face. Their eyes were void of any color. Black against white, glaring holes into me.
My jaw tightened, and I stiffened under their stare.
Immediately they softened, a smile working its way to their full peach lips. Aside from her eyes, the first thing I noticed was a tattoo crawling up her neck on either side, my sights glued to it. It was wings of some sort, a bat perhaps, tucked slightly beneath the collar of her navy turtleneck.
"No worries." Her voice was smooth, carrying a hint of husk that sent a violent shiver down my spine, straight to my core.
I flushed significantly, saying nothing more as I brushed past her to the restroom.
I flew in and locked the door behind me, placing my hand over my racing heart.
Ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum. I squeezed my fingers into my chest. Why was I acting like a virgin schoolgirl? Like I've never gotten laid? I hadn't even gotten a good look at her, so why had I had such a strong reaction to her voice?
I shook my head, clapping my hands against my hot cheeks.
I had to focus.
I creased my brows and gave a firm dip of my head.
I had to get myself together and make this count.
I stared at the stranger with glossy eyes, lips slightly chapped with the bite of midwinter. The harsh icy winds blew my loose blonde curls into disarray. My skin was sticky and sheened with nervous sweat, yet I was shivering all at once, causing my light makeup to become smeared.
Today, things did not seem to be in my favor. I lost some of my luggage at the airport, I broke my heel climbing onto the city bus, and after this interview, I had no idea where I was going to go. I came here on a whim. Just some luggage and a dream.
A dream to get the fuck out of the small town of Elkton, Kentucky. I never was one for muddied shoes and dirt paths. Of being a housewife with four children; two boys and two girls like my mother wanted. It wasn't me. I wanted out. I wanted luxury. Finery. Silk robes and champagne.
Not hard whiskey and a herniated disc.
To live on my mother's farm until marriage did not sound like a dream, it sounded like a nightmare, and I wanted out.
I placed my white-mittened hand against the door, giving it a push.
However, it didn't budge.
"Pull" Read the slightly torn sticker right above the handle in bold, red letters.
I huffed out a misty breath and gave the heavy door a struggled pull.
Nothing could dampen my spirits. I wouldn't let anything get in my way of this once-in-a-lifetime chance. I would head straight into the restroom, tidy myself up, and make my way before an agent to discuss my future works as they regarded me. I couldn't believe that my application, out of the hundreds of those who applied, was taken keenly, a one-way plane ticket paid for courtesy of the agency as they were so eager to have me.
I was twenty–four years old, moving quickly to twenty–five. Not a husband in sight nor did I want one. I wanted my youth. I wanted freedom and this opportunity would grant me that. I didn't wish to settle down so soon despite my mother's nagging about how I am not getting any younger.
She disapproved strongly of this trip, the prior night exclaiming it was a mistake. Ultimately, after hours of disagreement and the fact neither of us would change our stance, her love for me won merely insisting I be careful and to come home if I were in trouble.
"Can I help you?"
I jolted out of my skin, staring bug-eyed at the receptionist who glared at me from over her mauve rectangular glasses. "Um— hello! I uh—um." I took a deep breath, steadying my shrill voice. "I apologize it's cold—"
"Do you need something?" She inquired impatiently, her stern expression causing faint wrinkles to crease the corners of her mouth. Her thin red hair was pulled back into a tight bun, her ensemble made up of a red ruffled shirt, black slacks, and heeled boots peeking from under the desk.
I flushed immensely, my jacket sticking to me like a second skin.
"I'm looking for um, Mallory Athers—"
"So is everyone else here, have a seat." The receptionist motioned to the seating area with a pen, where dolled-up women with long, elegant legs and pretty faces sat. Some had pixie cuts, waist-length curls, short tight curls, pretty, unblemished skin peeked from their garments; all sorts of shades.
While each was different, they all had one thing in common.
Their striking appearances.
And suddenly, I felt out of place, tugging my worn hat over my ears.
"Is there a restroom I can use?"
"Down the hall to the left." The receptionist said without looking away from her screen.
I dragged my noisy suitcase down the polished white corridor, one wheel broken, clicking in and out of place as I guided it haphazardly.
I almost bumped the suitcase into a passing woman, causing me to jerk back with an apologetic smile. The smile soon wavered when I tipped backwards into another person.
"I'm sorry I—"
The menacing look I received was enough to drain the pink color of my prior embarrassments from my face. Their eyes were void of any color. Black against white, glaring holes into me.
My jaw tightened, and I stiffened under their stare.
Immediately they softened, a smile working its way to their full peach lips. Aside from her eyes, the first thing I noticed was a tattoo crawling up her neck on either side, my sights glued to it. It was wings of some sort, a bat perhaps, tucked slightly beneath the collar of her navy turtleneck.
"No worries." Her voice was smooth, carrying a hint of husk that sent a violent shiver down my spine, straight to my core.
I flushed significantly, saying nothing more as I brushed past her to the restroom.
I flew in and locked the door behind me, placing my hand over my racing heart.
Ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum. I squeezed my fingers into my chest. Why was I acting like a virgin schoolgirl? Like I've never gotten laid? I hadn't even gotten a good look at her, so why had I had such a strong reaction to her voice?
I shook my head, clapping my hands against my hot cheeks.
I had to focus.
I creased my brows and gave a firm dip of my head.
I had to get myself together and make this count.
ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ
"Absolutely not. I would've never taken in some pipsqueak girl. Look at her. She's like a little fawn with those legs and big hoofed feet; can barely stand on her own two feet. She is not what I am looking for."
All the pretty makeup I had put on smudged down my cheeks in defeat, my eyes wide in disbelief as I stood before Mallory Athers. I had barely stepped into the room before her protest began, waving me out with a cigarette between her boney fingers. Her cheeks were sunken in with age and her brunette hair with far too much hairspray stung my nose.
"But you—"
"Have a good day." Mallory continued to usher me out the door. "Send the next girl in,"
I stood there, jaw slacked. My heart thudded in my ears, both burning hot with panic. How could they have made such a mistake?
There was a man at her side, his scrutinizing gaze quietly assessing the situation. I briefly looked to him before I found my tongue.
"You sent me a ticket to come here." I continued to badger. "A-And email said you looked forward to meeting me and—look I can show you I—" I then remembered my phone was in my lost luggage. I had no proof. "There has to be some kind of mistake."
"Clearly." Mallory turned to the phone on her desk, her red-painted nail pressing a button before speaking into it. "Tell Ms.Vaughn to come in here please." She turned her attention back to me, and I probably looked so pathetic, with mascara streaking black under my eyes and along my cheeks, clear snot dripping from my nose. As if anything could ever go right in my life, why did I expect this to be any different?
"Yes, Mallory?" It was the same voice from before, only this time annoyance drawled her words. She spoke Mallory's name with a malignant sigh, clearly bothered to have been pulled from whatever her duty entailed.
"Why is this girl saying I sent her a plane ticket? I did no such thing. Check my account."
Before she had even finished her sentence, the woman strode from my peripheral, my blurry vision catching a glimpse of deep bluish-black hair sweeping just below her lower back.
Moving slowly towards the computer, groaning as she plopped herself down into the swivel chair behind the desk. She hunched over, clicking the mouse a few times before cocking her head back with a lazy grin.
"That's not a mistake, that's your signature, Mal."
"It can't be—" Mallory stared at the screen in disbelief. "Check again, Raven."
Raven sighed, scratching her head with slight irritation. "Mal, I can check it a million times. It's yours. You sent it from your own email."
"Maybe you sent it when you were on one of your benders." The male in the room snorted, Raven sharing his amusement before steeling her eyes on me.
Getting a good look at the woman who I had bumped into earlier, she wasn't exactly the kind of person I'd expected here, everyone polished and cleaned up like pretty dolls on a shelf. She wasn't that in the slightest, sticking out like a sore thumb.
Despite not fitting the aesthetic of this particular modeling agency, she was breathtaking nonetheless. I found myself glued to her, admiring her sitting splayed out in the chair. My eyes scrolled up slowly, her busty chest was constricted by the turtleneck, most likely used to shelter tattoos, I noticed crawling out onto her hands and knuckles. I admired her features, and how sharp they were. Her aquiline nose, tipped up slightly as she snickered at Mallory, her pierced tongue wetting her pillowy lips.
The cocky smile on her face began slowly fading under my wistful gaze and I rapidly snatched it to the floor.
"Send her back home, Jeffrey. I don't have time for this." Mallory grumbled, irritated she was being made a fool of.
"C'mon, she's already here. Why should she have to pay for your careless—"
"Be quiet. Your job is done, you can go." Mallory sneered at Raven, who rose from the seat and headed for the door. "You best watch your tone with me, Miss Vaughn." Mallory hissed venomously, to which Raven rolled her eyes, casting one more intrigued look at me before she exited the room.
"Daisy or whatever your name is, please go or I will be forced to have security escort you out. A plane ticket back home will be provided—"
"Mal, hold on. Look at her eyes. They're lovely." Jeffrey pointed out, making his way over to me and digging the pads of his cold fingers into my jaw. He cocked my head to either side, admiring my wide attention. I've always been told I had pretty eyes, grateful for the trait at this moment. "Do you have your portfolio with you?"
"Y—Yes I have it, right in here," I mumbled, nudging my burgundy suitcase.
"Alright, let's have a look quickly." Jeffery smiled warmly, easing the shaking in my hands as I fetched the needed paperwork from my bag.
Upon handing him my folder, I was then asked to present my social media for more pictures and angles, to which Mallory had taken in with attentiveness.
"Hmm." She frowned, clicking on a picture of me in a blue summer dress I had taken outside recently in the snowfall within the woods behind our farmhouse.
"She could be of use, let's give her a shot. She has a beautiful figure, you cannot deny that."
With a final huff, Mallory pinched the bridge of her nose. "Be here at 7 a.m. sharp. I will consider adding you to the line. Now go. I have girls waiting out there."
A small bit of hope bloomed in my chest, however, it did not exceed the strenuous ache of stress that plagued my bones.
I stumbled out of the office with a quiet thank you and sunk against the adjacent wall while the next girl made her way in.
Now I had a new problem waiting for me.
Where the fuck was I going to sleep tonight?
I sluggishly made my way out of the building, back into the unrelenting cold that stung my heated face like a fierce whip.
I shut my eyes, cocking my head heavenward to the dim streetlight. Snow had begun to fall, thick flakes sticking to my lashes and melting against my puffy lids.
I slowly opened my eyes, hoping that the few breaths of crisp air that stung my quivering lungs would be enough to calm me so I could think. My muscles slacked; my fingers quickly going numb. Everything was silent as the snow fell, not a peep to be heard. It was peaceful…almost like home…only the strong scents of car exhaust polluting my senses made me remember I was far from home.
"Mallory's a real bitch. I wouldn't worry about her." Raven spoke from the dark wall of the building behind me.
And just like that, I burst into tears.
I sobbed. Ugly and forced from the depths of my stomach. What the fuck was I doing here? Why did I think this would work for me? I was a fool. My optimism had never gotten me far in life so I was naive to believe I even had a chance.
My shoulders shook as my nose began to dribble, and if it were to be any colder, the thin mucus would freeze right to my upper lip.
"My mother was right, I'm so fucking stupid—" I took a strangled breath, trying to talk through my incoherent blubbering. "I shouldn't have—"
Raven moved from the shroud of shadows, the faint embers of the burning cigarette between her lips lighting up as she approached. "Shhh, hey," She tentatively feathered her touch along my hair, as if unsure. "You can't let them see you cry here. Models don't cry. So don't cry." Raven murmured against my helix. The sting of smoke in my nostrils was comforting, a smell that seeped itself into my father's clothes, and soon enough into my own as a child.
"I shouldn't be here."
"Aw, don't say that." Raven dragged her tentative fingers under my jaw, tilting it up to view her. Her black hair was dusted in a light layer of white, parts of her shaded features catching the light from the street lamp. She took the cigarette from her lips, turning her head to the side slightly to exhaust the smoke from her lungs. "You deserve to be here. They chose you for a reason."
Raven snorted then. "Mallory is an alcoholic cokehead with a shit memory. Can't remember shit she does, can't work a computer to save her life." Raven tapped the ashes from her cigarette. "Her brain is probably Swiss cheese. So take what she says with a grain of salt."
I had finally calmed down enough to string together a coherent sentence. "Thank you, I think I'll be alright." I hushed wiping my nose with my sleeve, however, Raven seemed unconvinced.
"Let's get you something to eat." She reached into the pocket of her black jacket, her keys jingling as she hooked them on her finger and pointed them toward a maroon car a few feet from us.
I shook my head. "I don't have any money."
"I didn't ask you that, I said let's get you something to eat." Raven opened the passenger side door of her car, leaning against it and waiting for me to move towards her. "It looks like you had a long day."
All the pretty makeup I had put on smudged down my cheeks in defeat, my eyes wide in disbelief as I stood before Mallory Athers. I had barely stepped into the room before her protest began, waving me out with a cigarette between her boney fingers. Her cheeks were sunken in with age and her brunette hair with far too much hairspray stung my nose.
"But you—"
"Have a good day." Mallory continued to usher me out the door. "Send the next girl in,"
I stood there, jaw slacked. My heart thudded in my ears, both burning hot with panic. How could they have made such a mistake?
There was a man at her side, his scrutinizing gaze quietly assessing the situation. I briefly looked to him before I found my tongue.
"You sent me a ticket to come here." I continued to badger. "A-And email said you looked forward to meeting me and—look I can show you I—" I then remembered my phone was in my lost luggage. I had no proof. "There has to be some kind of mistake."
"Clearly." Mallory turned to the phone on her desk, her red-painted nail pressing a button before speaking into it. "Tell Ms.Vaughn to come in here please." She turned her attention back to me, and I probably looked so pathetic, with mascara streaking black under my eyes and along my cheeks, clear snot dripping from my nose. As if anything could ever go right in my life, why did I expect this to be any different?
"Yes, Mallory?" It was the same voice from before, only this time annoyance drawled her words. She spoke Mallory's name with a malignant sigh, clearly bothered to have been pulled from whatever her duty entailed.
"Why is this girl saying I sent her a plane ticket? I did no such thing. Check my account."
Before she had even finished her sentence, the woman strode from my peripheral, my blurry vision catching a glimpse of deep bluish-black hair sweeping just below her lower back.
Moving slowly towards the computer, groaning as she plopped herself down into the swivel chair behind the desk. She hunched over, clicking the mouse a few times before cocking her head back with a lazy grin.
"That's not a mistake, that's your signature, Mal."
"It can't be—" Mallory stared at the screen in disbelief. "Check again, Raven."
Raven sighed, scratching her head with slight irritation. "Mal, I can check it a million times. It's yours. You sent it from your own email."
"Maybe you sent it when you were on one of your benders." The male in the room snorted, Raven sharing his amusement before steeling her eyes on me.
Getting a good look at the woman who I had bumped into earlier, she wasn't exactly the kind of person I'd expected here, everyone polished and cleaned up like pretty dolls on a shelf. She wasn't that in the slightest, sticking out like a sore thumb.
Despite not fitting the aesthetic of this particular modeling agency, she was breathtaking nonetheless. I found myself glued to her, admiring her sitting splayed out in the chair. My eyes scrolled up slowly, her busty chest was constricted by the turtleneck, most likely used to shelter tattoos, I noticed crawling out onto her hands and knuckles. I admired her features, and how sharp they were. Her aquiline nose, tipped up slightly as she snickered at Mallory, her pierced tongue wetting her pillowy lips.
The cocky smile on her face began slowly fading under my wistful gaze and I rapidly snatched it to the floor.
"Send her back home, Jeffrey. I don't have time for this." Mallory grumbled, irritated she was being made a fool of.
"C'mon, she's already here. Why should she have to pay for your careless—"
"Be quiet. Your job is done, you can go." Mallory sneered at Raven, who rose from the seat and headed for the door. "You best watch your tone with me, Miss Vaughn." Mallory hissed venomously, to which Raven rolled her eyes, casting one more intrigued look at me before she exited the room.
"Daisy or whatever your name is, please go or I will be forced to have security escort you out. A plane ticket back home will be provided—"
"Mal, hold on. Look at her eyes. They're lovely." Jeffrey pointed out, making his way over to me and digging the pads of his cold fingers into my jaw. He cocked my head to either side, admiring my wide attention. I've always been told I had pretty eyes, grateful for the trait at this moment. "Do you have your portfolio with you?"
"Y—Yes I have it, right in here," I mumbled, nudging my burgundy suitcase.
"Alright, let's have a look quickly." Jeffery smiled warmly, easing the shaking in my hands as I fetched the needed paperwork from my bag.
Upon handing him my folder, I was then asked to present my social media for more pictures and angles, to which Mallory had taken in with attentiveness.
"Hmm." She frowned, clicking on a picture of me in a blue summer dress I had taken outside recently in the snowfall within the woods behind our farmhouse.
"She could be of use, let's give her a shot. She has a beautiful figure, you cannot deny that."
With a final huff, Mallory pinched the bridge of her nose. "Be here at 7 a.m. sharp. I will consider adding you to the line. Now go. I have girls waiting out there."
A small bit of hope bloomed in my chest, however, it did not exceed the strenuous ache of stress that plagued my bones.
I stumbled out of the office with a quiet thank you and sunk against the adjacent wall while the next girl made her way in.
Now I had a new problem waiting for me.
Where the fuck was I going to sleep tonight?
I sluggishly made my way out of the building, back into the unrelenting cold that stung my heated face like a fierce whip.
I shut my eyes, cocking my head heavenward to the dim streetlight. Snow had begun to fall, thick flakes sticking to my lashes and melting against my puffy lids.
I slowly opened my eyes, hoping that the few breaths of crisp air that stung my quivering lungs would be enough to calm me so I could think. My muscles slacked; my fingers quickly going numb. Everything was silent as the snow fell, not a peep to be heard. It was peaceful…almost like home…only the strong scents of car exhaust polluting my senses made me remember I was far from home.
"Mallory's a real bitch. I wouldn't worry about her." Raven spoke from the dark wall of the building behind me.
And just like that, I burst into tears.
I sobbed. Ugly and forced from the depths of my stomach. What the fuck was I doing here? Why did I think this would work for me? I was a fool. My optimism had never gotten me far in life so I was naive to believe I even had a chance.
My shoulders shook as my nose began to dribble, and if it were to be any colder, the thin mucus would freeze right to my upper lip.
"My mother was right, I'm so fucking stupid—" I took a strangled breath, trying to talk through my incoherent blubbering. "I shouldn't have—"
Raven moved from the shroud of shadows, the faint embers of the burning cigarette between her lips lighting up as she approached. "Shhh, hey," She tentatively feathered her touch along my hair, as if unsure. "You can't let them see you cry here. Models don't cry. So don't cry." Raven murmured against my helix. The sting of smoke in my nostrils was comforting, a smell that seeped itself into my father's clothes, and soon enough into my own as a child.
"I shouldn't be here."
"Aw, don't say that." Raven dragged her tentative fingers under my jaw, tilting it up to view her. Her black hair was dusted in a light layer of white, parts of her shaded features catching the light from the street lamp. She took the cigarette from her lips, turning her head to the side slightly to exhaust the smoke from her lungs. "You deserve to be here. They chose you for a reason."
Raven snorted then. "Mallory is an alcoholic cokehead with a shit memory. Can't remember shit she does, can't work a computer to save her life." Raven tapped the ashes from her cigarette. "Her brain is probably Swiss cheese. So take what she says with a grain of salt."
I had finally calmed down enough to string together a coherent sentence. "Thank you, I think I'll be alright." I hushed wiping my nose with my sleeve, however, Raven seemed unconvinced.
"Let's get you something to eat." She reached into the pocket of her black jacket, her keys jingling as she hooked them on her finger and pointed them toward a maroon car a few feet from us.
I shook my head. "I don't have any money."
"I didn't ask you that, I said let's get you something to eat." Raven opened the passenger side door of her car, leaning against it and waiting for me to move towards her. "It looks like you had a long day."
ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ
"I lost almost all my luggage except for the one suitcase I have with me." I sniffled, hugging my hands around the warm paper cup of hot chocolate. The foam dollop of whipped cream melted into my half-finished drink, swirling against the steam that still radiated from the cup. I burnt my tongue, the pain at least giving me the incentive to focus on something other than Raven's hooded scrutiny.
"You're not the first girl who lost their luggage on the way here, I can track that down for you." Raven tapped her fingers on the table, my gaze steady on the tattoos on her knuckles, leading up her hand. A thinly drawn spiderweb stretched across her fingertips, and a black spider was placed along the base of her hand. I traced it with my eyes numerous times but nothing could take away from how Raven looked at me. "I know people in the terminal, so it'll be an easy fix. It's probably just stuck in baggage claim somewhere."
I was doing my best not to flush, or fidget, because now that we were in a well-lit setting and it was only the two of us, I was very aware of the undeniable beauty of the woman across from me. I couldn't believe she was sitting here with me. Eating dinner in some fast food joint. Consoling me…instead of doing whatever it was she should have been doing at this hour. Going home to her boyfriend, going out for drinks with friends. Or even just simply being home, watching a movie, and resting up for her another work day tomorrow.
I switched my attention to my half-eaten fries, and my cheeseburger that I took all of two bites of. I couldn't eat. I was far too anxious to stomach anything, and Raven seemed to acknowledge that.
"Why are you being so nice to me? You don't even know me…" I gripped my cup a little tighter with a sudden realization. No one was merely nice for no reason. I've heard far too many horror stories from both my mother and the depths of the internet about unsuspecting women like me being lured by other women into unspeakable situations. My wide eyes flew to Raven's blank countenance. "Are you trying to sell me to some underground trafficking ring?"
Raven stared at me briefly before her lightweight laughter echoed in the empty place. Her laugh sent a chill up my spine, causing me to cross my legs under the table.
I was being crazy.
"I'm only being nice, I promise." She leaned slightly across the table, her laughter dying down to a smirk. "I have a soft spot for crying girls." She teased, holding my flustered attention. When she noticed how stiff I was, she leaned back into her seat. "But really, sometimes just being nice is all someone needs."
I picked up a cold fry, my body slacking from its tense state. "So you're nice to all the girls that waltz into the agency and walk out in tears, huh?" I snickered, biting into the fry.
"No." Raven answered all too quickly. "Just the pretty ones." I stopped chewing, drawing my sights back to her. She was resting her chin in her hand now.
I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, clearing my throat. "They're all pretty."
"They're not my type."
For Christ's sake, it took everything in my body not to excuse myself from her smoldering attention. Here I was ready to pounce with the slightest hint of flirtation.
But perhaps I was only yearning for an outlet after the day I endured. I was stressed. Tired. I wanted to feel good.
I simmered down when Raven pulled out her phone, clicking her tongue. "I should get you somewhere to rest." I had gone to object, however, Raven continued. "I know a little motel not too far from the agency. I'll pick you up and take you with me in the morning, if you want? By then I should have an idea as to where your stuff is."
"I wouldn't want to burden you anymore, I appreciate dinner, and I—"
She leaned over slightly as she stood, her velvety voice lowered to a purr. "I'm not going to let a pretty girl sleep out in the cold." She walked to the doors to leave, the sound of her heavy boots tapping the scuffed-tiled floor behind me.
I sat for what felt like forever, frozen in place before I found the will to stand on my jellied legs and leave with her.
"You're not the first girl who lost their luggage on the way here, I can track that down for you." Raven tapped her fingers on the table, my gaze steady on the tattoos on her knuckles, leading up her hand. A thinly drawn spiderweb stretched across her fingertips, and a black spider was placed along the base of her hand. I traced it with my eyes numerous times but nothing could take away from how Raven looked at me. "I know people in the terminal, so it'll be an easy fix. It's probably just stuck in baggage claim somewhere."
I was doing my best not to flush, or fidget, because now that we were in a well-lit setting and it was only the two of us, I was very aware of the undeniable beauty of the woman across from me. I couldn't believe she was sitting here with me. Eating dinner in some fast food joint. Consoling me…instead of doing whatever it was she should have been doing at this hour. Going home to her boyfriend, going out for drinks with friends. Or even just simply being home, watching a movie, and resting up for her another work day tomorrow.
I switched my attention to my half-eaten fries, and my cheeseburger that I took all of two bites of. I couldn't eat. I was far too anxious to stomach anything, and Raven seemed to acknowledge that.
"Why are you being so nice to me? You don't even know me…" I gripped my cup a little tighter with a sudden realization. No one was merely nice for no reason. I've heard far too many horror stories from both my mother and the depths of the internet about unsuspecting women like me being lured by other women into unspeakable situations. My wide eyes flew to Raven's blank countenance. "Are you trying to sell me to some underground trafficking ring?"
Raven stared at me briefly before her lightweight laughter echoed in the empty place. Her laugh sent a chill up my spine, causing me to cross my legs under the table.
I was being crazy.
"I'm only being nice, I promise." She leaned slightly across the table, her laughter dying down to a smirk. "I have a soft spot for crying girls." She teased, holding my flustered attention. When she noticed how stiff I was, she leaned back into her seat. "But really, sometimes just being nice is all someone needs."
I picked up a cold fry, my body slacking from its tense state. "So you're nice to all the girls that waltz into the agency and walk out in tears, huh?" I snickered, biting into the fry.
"No." Raven answered all too quickly. "Just the pretty ones." I stopped chewing, drawing my sights back to her. She was resting her chin in her hand now.
I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, clearing my throat. "They're all pretty."
"They're not my type."
For Christ's sake, it took everything in my body not to excuse myself from her smoldering attention. Here I was ready to pounce with the slightest hint of flirtation.
But perhaps I was only yearning for an outlet after the day I endured. I was stressed. Tired. I wanted to feel good.
I simmered down when Raven pulled out her phone, clicking her tongue. "I should get you somewhere to rest." I had gone to object, however, Raven continued. "I know a little motel not too far from the agency. I'll pick you up and take you with me in the morning, if you want? By then I should have an idea as to where your stuff is."
"I wouldn't want to burden you anymore, I appreciate dinner, and I—"
She leaned over slightly as she stood, her velvety voice lowered to a purr. "I'm not going to let a pretty girl sleep out in the cold." She walked to the doors to leave, the sound of her heavy boots tapping the scuffed-tiled floor behind me.
I sat for what felt like forever, frozen in place before I found the will to stand on my jellied legs and leave with her.
ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ
The ride to the motel was short. Thankfully. I just wanted to rest, I was so exhausted and it felt like this day was a neverending nightmare.
The halls were a tacky greenish-yellow beneath the fluorescent lights, rows of doors ominously stretching down the corridor.
We stood outside the door of the room Raven graciously paid for.
"Thank you again for everything, I really appreciate it. I uh—" I scratched my nape. Just then I remembered my mother. "Oh my God," I said mortified under my breath, placing a hand on my forehead. "Raven, one more tiny favor, I'll make it up to you once I'm on my feet here, I swear."
Raven quirked her brow.
"Could I use your phone? I haven't gotten to speak with my mom yet, I really just want to let her know I'm okay."
"Yeah, of course, no problem." She drew her phone from her pocket, handing it to me.
I dialed the number and waited impatiently, nibbling my lower lip.
Raven walked a distance away to give me some privacy, and it was then my mother's hard tone that sent a warm flood of relief through me. Always stern, even when she was being loving. The only time she sounded soft was when she would sing. And oh how I wished I could hear her sing right now.
"Hello?"
"Mama—"
"MAIZY MOORE WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN I'VE BEEN WORRIED SICK ABOUT YOU!"
I pulled the phone away from my ear, her shrill so loud I'm sure even Raven had heard it.
"I'm sorry Mama." My voice cracked, her fingers clinging to the phone. "I had a long day."
I put my mother's fears to bed quickly, promising I'd call her and explain everything tomorrow after I've gotten some rest. That I just wanted to let her know I was okay and I was someplace warm. "I love you, Crazy Maizy. You know your Mama is here if you need anything." I smiled at her nickname for me as I walked back over to Raven, my eyes bloodshot with unshed tears. "Thank you."
Raven glanced at the phone. "Hold onto it just in case. I'll get it in the morning." She handed me the key to my room. "Get some sleep. I'll be back in a few hours."
I checked the time.
1:30 a.m
The corridor was silent save for the faint buzzing of the electricity.
The light above us flickered.
I gave a soft smile. "See you in a few hours, Raven."
I turned my back and walked towards my door, sticking the key in the lock and heading inside the dark room. I turned on the light and shut the door behind me. A small bed, a tv. All the things I would need for tonight.
I eased my suitcase against the wall and headed into the bathroom. Turning on the light, I stared at myself, my lip twitching, threatening to cry.
I quickly faced away, snatching my clothes off my body and tossing them carelessly aside before turning on the shower. The handle squeaked with age, hot water splashing into the discolored tub.
A shaky breath left my lungs as I climbed in, laying my body down on the cold shower floor. Curling up in a fetal position, I allowed the scalding water to wash over my sore muscles and shut my eyes.
Tomorrow will be better.
The image of Raven flashed in my bleary mind.
It had to be.
The halls were a tacky greenish-yellow beneath the fluorescent lights, rows of doors ominously stretching down the corridor.
We stood outside the door of the room Raven graciously paid for.
"Thank you again for everything, I really appreciate it. I uh—" I scratched my nape. Just then I remembered my mother. "Oh my God," I said mortified under my breath, placing a hand on my forehead. "Raven, one more tiny favor, I'll make it up to you once I'm on my feet here, I swear."
Raven quirked her brow.
"Could I use your phone? I haven't gotten to speak with my mom yet, I really just want to let her know I'm okay."
"Yeah, of course, no problem." She drew her phone from her pocket, handing it to me.
I dialed the number and waited impatiently, nibbling my lower lip.
Raven walked a distance away to give me some privacy, and it was then my mother's hard tone that sent a warm flood of relief through me. Always stern, even when she was being loving. The only time she sounded soft was when she would sing. And oh how I wished I could hear her sing right now.
"Hello?"
"Mama—"
"MAIZY MOORE WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN I'VE BEEN WORRIED SICK ABOUT YOU!"
I pulled the phone away from my ear, her shrill so loud I'm sure even Raven had heard it.
"I'm sorry Mama." My voice cracked, her fingers clinging to the phone. "I had a long day."
I put my mother's fears to bed quickly, promising I'd call her and explain everything tomorrow after I've gotten some rest. That I just wanted to let her know I was okay and I was someplace warm. "I love you, Crazy Maizy. You know your Mama is here if you need anything." I smiled at her nickname for me as I walked back over to Raven, my eyes bloodshot with unshed tears. "Thank you."
Raven glanced at the phone. "Hold onto it just in case. I'll get it in the morning." She handed me the key to my room. "Get some sleep. I'll be back in a few hours."
I checked the time.
1:30 a.m
The corridor was silent save for the faint buzzing of the electricity.
The light above us flickered.
I gave a soft smile. "See you in a few hours, Raven."
I turned my back and walked towards my door, sticking the key in the lock and heading inside the dark room. I turned on the light and shut the door behind me. A small bed, a tv. All the things I would need for tonight.
I eased my suitcase against the wall and headed into the bathroom. Turning on the light, I stared at myself, my lip twitching, threatening to cry.
I quickly faced away, snatching my clothes off my body and tossing them carelessly aside before turning on the shower. The handle squeaked with age, hot water splashing into the discolored tub.
A shaky breath left my lungs as I climbed in, laying my body down on the cold shower floor. Curling up in a fetal position, I allowed the scalding water to wash over my sore muscles and shut my eyes.
Tomorrow will be better.
The image of Raven flashed in my bleary mind.
It had to be.
Chapter Two: Raven
I unlocked the metal door to my apartment, pushing it open. All the lights were off except for a dim blue LED over my tarantula's enclosure to guide me in.
I locked the door behind me before, tugging out of my jacket and tossing it over a chair. Cautiously, I stepped over two overflowing burgundy suitcases, humming softly, as I stopped at Baby's tank, my Brazilian Black Tarantula. Her fangs were buried deep in the pinky mouse I had left for her when I came home on my lunch break.
"Pretty girl, aren't you Baby?" I made kissing noises, petting a finger on the glass before continuing to my desk.
I flicked on the fluorescent lamp, staring at Maizy's laptop, and cellphone that waited for me, taken apart and exposing the inner workings of thin metallic chips.
I stared at the 100% on the dark blue screen of my PC. Both of her devices were connected to it, downloading the contents within her electronics to my personal drive. Everything I might have missed anyway.
Four months ago, I sent a trojan horse to her through a spam email, allowing me access to her cameras on both of her devices, amongst every other tidbit of information she had to offer.
Her contacts, her pictures, passwords, accounts; all of it was within my grasp.
I gave a little smile, closing out of the loading screen of my PC, and then switched to my phone, checking to see if the hacked cameras still worked.
Her phone turned on, her lock screen one of her three cats; a white one whose name was Dot, because she had a tiny black dot in the center of her forehead.
Even with her lock screen on, I was able to see the lamp light that directly hovered over her phone on my screen. I checked the laptop camera as well, giving a little wave and seeing the same image on my phone.
For months I was watching her. Listening to her while she was so far away from me. It was all I could do to console my wantings.
I took her phone in my grasp, studying the vaguely rearranged parts that I would set in place later, concealing a flat, dime-sized tracking device. I placed the glass backing gently over everything to ensure no dust would get into it, setting it back onto the table.
Her laptop was in the same condition, taken apart enough for me to insert the tracker into it, where I could see her location on my phone. Even if the devices themselves were turned off, I would still be able to keep track of her.
Being a college dropout that specialized in computer forensics, I suppose it did have its uses after all. But compared to the knowledge I have, this was child's play.
Maizy Moore. Age 24. Blonde hair. Brown eyes. 5'1. 110 pounds. Known as Momo on her social media.
She sent her application to the agency on a whim it seemed, the application sparse. Like she didn't believe she'd get in anyway but wanted to try. I couldn't look past it. I just couldn't. I tried to get it out of my mind for days as I wasn't even supposed to see it. I was merely fixing another virus Mallory had managed to acquire on her computer.
So what was so different about Maizy from other models?
Well…nothing. I just thought she had the prettiest doe brown eyes. Such a soft and pretty face. She made my heart race.
One would call it love at first sight.
The problem with me is once I liked something, no matter how small it was, I had to have it. I've always been that way.
Not that I was spoiled or anything, I just took what I wanted. If I couldn't have it, I took it anyway. I learned very quickly as a child that life gives you nothing. You have to take it.
The initial infatuation with Maizy led me to pry into her social media. While her application lacked, her socials on the other hand. Her socials were filled with her adorably bubbly presence. She was so genuine, catered to her audiences; interacted with everyone. I watched all of her content since then, and she showed her viewers life on her farm and talked about her big dreams of moving to the city, all things regular influencers do. She was just so…warm. Soothing. I could listen to her talk for hours. I listened to her before bed, fell asleep to her little laughs. Woke up to the same sweet voice as she got ready for her day.
It was so odd how my fixation with her began…and how quickly it happened. I wasn't sure when exactly it spiraled but in the span of four months, I had pictures of her on my wall, I sent her money from various accounts, and I had sent her a plane ticket through the company.
I needed her here with me. I needed her close by.
And I had gotten just that today. But fuck it broke my heart when Mallory made her cry. I almost put that bitch's head through her desk. Her wide brown eyes swimming with tears coaxed even the most vile parts of me to react so tenderly. I longed to bury my face in her pretty blonde hair. I was so close this evening. So very close. I touched her as if I would break her. Skimming my fingers softly over her like one would a wounded animal.
I absolutely adored her.
That little smile she gave me when she had told me she'd see me in a few hours. The things it did to me.
I looked towards the suitcases that I had taken from the airport. I knew what time she was arriving, and snagged the suitcases, not realizing I had forgotten one. I only had seen two in the picture she uploaded to her story. But thankfully I got the most important ones.
I rummaged through them and everything smelled like her; like mint, the strong aroma blooming from the cases.
I plucked a pair of her cream-colored panties from the floor, bunching them in my fist. Bringing them to my nose, I breathed in deeply, drinking in her scent. My mouth instinctively watered, my pierced tongue gliding over the thin silk that would sit tight against her cunt when she had them on.
I moaned at the thought of devouring her through this flimsy covering, a string of saliva leaving my lips. How I'd make her writhe and beg.
I couldn't believe I had gotten so close to her. I was so close.
And I would only get closer.
I couldn't wait to see her again.
I locked the door behind me before, tugging out of my jacket and tossing it over a chair. Cautiously, I stepped over two overflowing burgundy suitcases, humming softly, as I stopped at Baby's tank, my Brazilian Black Tarantula. Her fangs were buried deep in the pinky mouse I had left for her when I came home on my lunch break.
"Pretty girl, aren't you Baby?" I made kissing noises, petting a finger on the glass before continuing to my desk.
I flicked on the fluorescent lamp, staring at Maizy's laptop, and cellphone that waited for me, taken apart and exposing the inner workings of thin metallic chips.
I stared at the 100% on the dark blue screen of my PC. Both of her devices were connected to it, downloading the contents within her electronics to my personal drive. Everything I might have missed anyway.
Four months ago, I sent a trojan horse to her through a spam email, allowing me access to her cameras on both of her devices, amongst every other tidbit of information she had to offer.
Her contacts, her pictures, passwords, accounts; all of it was within my grasp.
I gave a little smile, closing out of the loading screen of my PC, and then switched to my phone, checking to see if the hacked cameras still worked.
Her phone turned on, her lock screen one of her three cats; a white one whose name was Dot, because she had a tiny black dot in the center of her forehead.
Even with her lock screen on, I was able to see the lamp light that directly hovered over her phone on my screen. I checked the laptop camera as well, giving a little wave and seeing the same image on my phone.
For months I was watching her. Listening to her while she was so far away from me. It was all I could do to console my wantings.
I took her phone in my grasp, studying the vaguely rearranged parts that I would set in place later, concealing a flat, dime-sized tracking device. I placed the glass backing gently over everything to ensure no dust would get into it, setting it back onto the table.
Her laptop was in the same condition, taken apart enough for me to insert the tracker into it, where I could see her location on my phone. Even if the devices themselves were turned off, I would still be able to keep track of her.
Being a college dropout that specialized in computer forensics, I suppose it did have its uses after all. But compared to the knowledge I have, this was child's play.
Maizy Moore. Age 24. Blonde hair. Brown eyes. 5'1. 110 pounds. Known as Momo on her social media.
She sent her application to the agency on a whim it seemed, the application sparse. Like she didn't believe she'd get in anyway but wanted to try. I couldn't look past it. I just couldn't. I tried to get it out of my mind for days as I wasn't even supposed to see it. I was merely fixing another virus Mallory had managed to acquire on her computer.
So what was so different about Maizy from other models?
Well…nothing. I just thought she had the prettiest doe brown eyes. Such a soft and pretty face. She made my heart race.
One would call it love at first sight.
The problem with me is once I liked something, no matter how small it was, I had to have it. I've always been that way.
Not that I was spoiled or anything, I just took what I wanted. If I couldn't have it, I took it anyway. I learned very quickly as a child that life gives you nothing. You have to take it.
The initial infatuation with Maizy led me to pry into her social media. While her application lacked, her socials on the other hand. Her socials were filled with her adorably bubbly presence. She was so genuine, catered to her audiences; interacted with everyone. I watched all of her content since then, and she showed her viewers life on her farm and talked about her big dreams of moving to the city, all things regular influencers do. She was just so…warm. Soothing. I could listen to her talk for hours. I listened to her before bed, fell asleep to her little laughs. Woke up to the same sweet voice as she got ready for her day.
It was so odd how my fixation with her began…and how quickly it happened. I wasn't sure when exactly it spiraled but in the span of four months, I had pictures of her on my wall, I sent her money from various accounts, and I had sent her a plane ticket through the company.
I needed her here with me. I needed her close by.
And I had gotten just that today. But fuck it broke my heart when Mallory made her cry. I almost put that bitch's head through her desk. Her wide brown eyes swimming with tears coaxed even the most vile parts of me to react so tenderly. I longed to bury my face in her pretty blonde hair. I was so close this evening. So very close. I touched her as if I would break her. Skimming my fingers softly over her like one would a wounded animal.
I absolutely adored her.
That little smile she gave me when she had told me she'd see me in a few hours. The things it did to me.
I looked towards the suitcases that I had taken from the airport. I knew what time she was arriving, and snagged the suitcases, not realizing I had forgotten one. I only had seen two in the picture she uploaded to her story. But thankfully I got the most important ones.
I rummaged through them and everything smelled like her; like mint, the strong aroma blooming from the cases.
I plucked a pair of her cream-colored panties from the floor, bunching them in my fist. Bringing them to my nose, I breathed in deeply, drinking in her scent. My mouth instinctively watered, my pierced tongue gliding over the thin silk that would sit tight against her cunt when she had them on.
I moaned at the thought of devouring her through this flimsy covering, a string of saliva leaving my lips. How I'd make her writhe and beg.
I couldn't believe I had gotten so close to her. I was so close.
And I would only get closer.
I couldn't wait to see her again.