Prolouge

Prolouge

A Chapter by C.C. Marx
"

this was meant to come before chapter one

"

A girl admires her scenery in the glow of the streetlights.

The New York skyline fascinates her. Every time she sees it, it gives her chills. It reminds her that she’s really here; this is really her home.

            Though it is late, she takes her time strolling along the sidewalks. The streets are still fairly busy with last-minute shoppers and people just getting out of a late shift. Her apartment is a good few miles from her current location, but she feels no rush to get there. Getting home means writing her psychology essay and she has no desire to do that just yet.

            Store lights radiate, and she glances in each window to admire the beautiful clothes. Most of the stuff she can’t afford yet, but someday, she tells herself she will have it all.

            Her phone buzzes letting her know of an incoming call. She quickly presses it to her ear.

            “Hello?”

            “You’ve been given the job.” a woman’s voice announces through the phone.

            She feels overwhelming excitement, but she makes sure to keep composure.

            “When does she want me to come in?”

            “The shoot is in a month and your first fitting is two days from now. The coordinator said you could stand to drop a few pounds between now and the shoot.”

            She frowns. She thought she was in perfect shape; she worked hard for this figure.

            “I understand.”

            She hears a dial tone and pockets her phone with a sigh. No one has commented on her weight in years, not since…

            She continues her walk lost in thought. Every once and a while, she looks down at her stomach to see if she could see an obvious weight gain. She saw nothing, but if the coordinator saw something, then there must be something there.

            Back to the gym, she thinks to herself. And maybe if I skip breakfast…

            She walks into a girl. The girl curses at her and stalks across the street with a huff.

            The other girl is on a mission. It is obvious by her demeanor and her stride she is determined. She looks down at her custom crystal watch. She is already late for her appointment.

            Briskly, she makes her way through the crowds, her Burberry heels clicking against the pavement. Her scarf whips around in the wind. She hugs her coat close to her skinny frame. Only one more street to cross.

            She finally turns right and quickly ducks into an alley way. She hopes no one she knows sees her here. Impatiently, she taps her foot and waits.

            A building side door opens to reveal a shady looking man. His face is all business.

            “Why did we have to meet here?” the girl asks shivering. “It’s so damn cold!”

            Ignoring her comment, he counters, “Did you bring the money?”

            She opens her Coach purse and pulls out a stack of cash. Handing it to him, he grabs it greedily. He leafs through, counting carefully.

            “Not enough.”

            She gives him a hard look.

            “What do you mean not enough? You asked for three hundred, and I gave you three hundred. We had a deal.” she declares irritably.

            He returns her stare. “My supplier gave me less, so the price is four hundred. If you don’t want it, I can find someone who does.”

            “I don’t have another hundred with me.”

            “Then bring it tomorrow and you will get it tomorrow.”

            “But I want it now.” she replies exasperatedly.

            “That’s too bad.” he retorts.

            She sees him eyeing her scarf. “What if I paid you in other arrangements?”

            “You mean the scarf. I don’t know…”

            “It’s an original Gucci; I bought it for a little over a hundred. You can even look at the label, I’m telling the truth.”

            She hands him the scarf and he inspects it. After five minutes, he clears his throat.

            “Wait here.” he says. He slips back through the door.

            She waits anxiously. She hates buying from him, he always wants to meet in a sketchy area and she can never tell if he’s ripping her off.

            He returns quickly with a paper bag. She snatches it from him hostilely. He gives her a creepy, crooked smile.

            “That should last you a while, it was a pleasure doing business with you.”

            Just as he appeared suddenly, he disappears. She begins her long walk back to campus.

            “It better last a while, because I have no interest seeing you anytime soon.” she mutters to herself.

            Stuffing the bag in her jacket, she ambles along quietly in the peace New York night.



© 2012 C.C. Marx


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Reviews

love your details and the dialouge is welll structured. plus i love the story so far :) great job

Posted 10 Years Ago


C.C. Marx

10 Years Ago

Thanks Jenny-kins!! Idk If I will ever finish though

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Added on November 2, 2012
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C.C. Marx
C.C. Marx

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My friends call me C which is short for.....Anyways let's share a little about me, shall we? I write because it gives me a way to say things I've never had the courage to explain or tell others. Ther.. more..

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