The Beautiful Stranger
Beautiful StrangerChapter 1: The Beautiful Stranger
Amber’s late. She’s always late. But when one is in a gang, being on time isn’t really all that important, unless it’s for a fight. She’s shaking a can of spray paint as she walks past a plain brick wall in some hipster neighborhood full of coffee shops and music stores and fights the urge to tag F(x) in broad daylight. It gets harder and harder the further she walks.
She passes a couple that quickly looks at her, becomes intimidated by the way she looks, and pushes themselves towards the side she’s the furthest from. This happens two more times, and it’s clear that she’s a threat in this neighborhood. It pisses her off.
Oh, what the hell.
She shakes the can harder. The girls can wait a little longer.
She searches for a premium spot, which is key. People need to see the tag or else it’s pointless. She keeps walking, searching, until he walks past, inches from her, catching her gaze and holding it until he passes.
She stops in her tracks.
He is tall, long-limbed and arrogant looking, but his face is smooth and perfect, like an angel. His long hair fans around him as if he is a lion, and his walk is with the air of pure confidence.
She turns around to meet his eye again, but he keeps on walking. She briefly wonders if she should approach him instead, but she’s feeling a little arrogant herself. The ladies of F(x) don’t approach anyone. Men are lucky enough to be given the chance to approach them.
But damn, he was beautiful. She wants that bad.
She forgets all of her artistry when she tags beautiful on the brick wall.
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