Post by Dewey on Mar 12, 2008 1:39:41 GMT -5
((bleh, it's 1:40, this sucks))
Lisette wasn't into dating. She never had been. From the onstart of her teenaged years, men had always been objects to manipulate. Pushing them one way resulted in fancy gifts. Pushing them another way resulted in customers for the addiction she dealt. She liked to think of herself as a femme fatale, luring men in, delighting their senses with narcotics, and then leaving them cold when they were addicted drugbeats on the brink of ruin. She never cared about any of them anyway. Why should she? Her drug ring was a business. Contacts weren't boyfriends, they were clients. Sure, she danced with them in clubs, drank the martini's they bought her, and wore the diamonds they threw upon her, but they were foolish to think this meant anything. She was only doing a job.
Until he came around. At first, he was only a job, too. In fact, he was a high. It thrilled Lisette, the potential to destroy a member of the Tagliatti family. It would be her biggest success yet. She introduced him to all kinds of drugs, and even signed him on as a member of her drug ring. When he began to experiment with the narcotics, she watched on. When he felt the heat from a busted drug deal, she disappeared. She thought it was an after thought. She thought she didn't care about him.
But she was wrong. When their paths crossed just days ago, a rush of feelings overwhelmed her. Was that excitement? Did her heart leap when she recognized his face? Lisette didn't want to believe it. She wanted to shove those feelings to the back of her head. But after that night, he invaded her thoughts. She kept thinking about long nights under bedsheets, about dancing to 2 or 3 in the morning at clubs, about revealing conversations on rides back home. She had invested too much in this one. She had given a bit more of herself than she would've liked.
Head spinning with thoughts, the Colombian girl padded down the hallway with bare feet, the Spanish tiles below sending freezing shocks up her legs. She put a manicured hand on the handle to her door, and pushed it open. She'd been taking cover in her room for the past 48 hours. She feared going out in the streets, worried someone would recognize her and connect her with Zach's crime. It gave her time to work on her clothing line and to catch up on missed episodes of fashion shows, but she was growing restless, and with that restlessness came the realization that she was heartbroken.
She collapsed onto her desk chair and turned on her Mac laptop, instantly navigating to her MySpace page. The soft Spanish music soothed her. She turne dup the volume and closed her eyes, inhaling a deep breath and holding it a few moments before letting it escape her. Eyes reopened, she clicked on an album. "Chillin with my man". The pictures made her heart stir. Pictures of her and Zach at different clubs, smiling, clearly having fun. Was that really her? Did she really have the capacity to smile, to laugh? To do something other than argue and be stoic?
Why did he have to be like his brothers? Why did he have to live up to the Tagliatti namesake of being a backstabbing cut-throat. Had he been this way all the time, Lisette to blinded to realize it? She had put more trust in him than in any other man, even her father and brothers. And in the end, she'd been set up. One by one, she began deleting the pictures. It hurt, but it had to be done.
For all the drugs she sold, she never thought she'd be addicted to that fatal one called love. She refused to turn up like her customers. She'd destroy the addiction now.
Lisette wasn't into dating. She never had been. From the onstart of her teenaged years, men had always been objects to manipulate. Pushing them one way resulted in fancy gifts. Pushing them another way resulted in customers for the addiction she dealt. She liked to think of herself as a femme fatale, luring men in, delighting their senses with narcotics, and then leaving them cold when they were addicted drugbeats on the brink of ruin. She never cared about any of them anyway. Why should she? Her drug ring was a business. Contacts weren't boyfriends, they were clients. Sure, she danced with them in clubs, drank the martini's they bought her, and wore the diamonds they threw upon her, but they were foolish to think this meant anything. She was only doing a job.
Until he came around. At first, he was only a job, too. In fact, he was a high. It thrilled Lisette, the potential to destroy a member of the Tagliatti family. It would be her biggest success yet. She introduced him to all kinds of drugs, and even signed him on as a member of her drug ring. When he began to experiment with the narcotics, she watched on. When he felt the heat from a busted drug deal, she disappeared. She thought it was an after thought. She thought she didn't care about him.
But she was wrong. When their paths crossed just days ago, a rush of feelings overwhelmed her. Was that excitement? Did her heart leap when she recognized his face? Lisette didn't want to believe it. She wanted to shove those feelings to the back of her head. But after that night, he invaded her thoughts. She kept thinking about long nights under bedsheets, about dancing to 2 or 3 in the morning at clubs, about revealing conversations on rides back home. She had invested too much in this one. She had given a bit more of herself than she would've liked.
Head spinning with thoughts, the Colombian girl padded down the hallway with bare feet, the Spanish tiles below sending freezing shocks up her legs. She put a manicured hand on the handle to her door, and pushed it open. She'd been taking cover in her room for the past 48 hours. She feared going out in the streets, worried someone would recognize her and connect her with Zach's crime. It gave her time to work on her clothing line and to catch up on missed episodes of fashion shows, but she was growing restless, and with that restlessness came the realization that she was heartbroken.
She collapsed onto her desk chair and turned on her Mac laptop, instantly navigating to her MySpace page. The soft Spanish music soothed her. She turne dup the volume and closed her eyes, inhaling a deep breath and holding it a few moments before letting it escape her. Eyes reopened, she clicked on an album. "Chillin with my man". The pictures made her heart stir. Pictures of her and Zach at different clubs, smiling, clearly having fun. Was that really her? Did she really have the capacity to smile, to laugh? To do something other than argue and be stoic?
Why did he have to be like his brothers? Why did he have to live up to the Tagliatti namesake of being a backstabbing cut-throat. Had he been this way all the time, Lisette to blinded to realize it? She had put more trust in him than in any other man, even her father and brothers. And in the end, she'd been set up. One by one, she began deleting the pictures. It hurt, but it had to be done.
For all the drugs she sold, she never thought she'd be addicted to that fatal one called love. She refused to turn up like her customers. She'd destroy the addiction now.