《Collaboration || Dan Smith》Fifty-One.
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𝘿𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙠 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙢𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙡𝙡?
- 𝗙𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗸 𝗢𝗰𝗲𝗮𝗻
~ July 4th 2019 ~
"Mister Smith, you're late." Lana laughs as she stands up. Lana is in a long blue dress looking heavenly. Blue is kind of her colour. The complete opposite of Maisie. Blue or brown...maybe even black. I dive into Lana's arms, "I'm sorry...it's the Fourth of July in America so Maisie made me go and buy fireworks." We had to do that last year. It's actually embarrassing. We're the only dickheads in the entirety of London letting fireworks off. "Fucking hell, seriously? Is she patriotic?" I laugh at Lana's bothered face.
"It's not just the fact that she's patriotic...it's the fact that it's hard to find fireworks this time of year. Especially since it don't get dark to just gone ten." We're going to wake up everyone again. We had so many complaints. Hopefully our neighbours in this new estate are on holiday or whatever. "Fuck me." Lana laughs as we sit down at our normal table. It's the most private table in the entirety of London - we're more or less in a whole another part of the restaurant.
"I feel for you. I really do." She puts her hand on top of mine. I burst out laughing. "Are you my therapist now?" With that she sits back, a small smile sweeps across her face. "I can be whatever you want me to be, a baby." Fuck. She's everything.
I have to look away and smile. I don't want to act like a complete weirdo and embarrass myself in front of her. "Excuse me but are you blushing?" I shake my head pursing my lips together. I feel Lana look at me, "Oh my god. You are!" She loudly says as my eyes flick towards her. I can't help but shake my head as she points at me like a child, "god I can't wait for your daughter to be born so I can kiss you in public." Lana picks up her white wine.
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She likes 'play it safe drinks' from what I've established about her. I do too. "Why did you even get back with Maisie in the first place? There must've been something you both felt..." I loved Maisie. I loved her...but I didn't love her like that. I only tried for the sake of Bee. "Fuck knows" - I then cough - "I stayed because of Maisie's family problems...she became a different person at first. But that feistiness just went out of the window..." as soon as she admitted to being a bully it was back to nice Maisie again.
"You like feisty girls. Is that why you like me? Because baby I prefer the term fierce. I am fierce." Lana calls everyone she knows 'baby'. Even girls. Lana is one of the kind. Sure she is well spoken and is perfectly sophisticated- she has fun side. Edgy perhaps?
"You definitely are fierce." With that I point at the red wine which is already waiting on the fancy table. It looks like Lana already ordered for me. Fuck. I feel so rude for being late, all of this is really fucking expensive. "And you are my little secret dickhead with a girlfriend who runs a mummy blog." I don't even attempt to pick the wine up while I lean over in hysterics. Lana really does put things as they are.
"Mama blog you mean." Only then do I press the cold wine glass against my lips. "Ah yes. I forgot...the cliché American mama. Do forgive me." Lana is educated, she tells me that when she was younger she was a rebel. So wild that her own parents couldn't manage her, so they did what any other rich arseholes would do - they shipped her arse away to boarding school - I guess this is where her mannerisms come from?
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But then Lana also told me that she accidentally caused a fire at the boarding school with her cigarette and she got expelled. The worse part apparently was leaving her only ever friends she made there...behind. Apparently her parents had to forcibly remove her while she was kicking and screaming - because she knew she wasn't be able to come back or see them again. It's like a fucking Lana Del Rey song.
"Me and Maisie got into a disagreement the other week" I scratch my forehead with my thumb. Lana leans back and smiles, "was it fun? The disagreement?" I shake my head. "Maisie reacted weirdly. I had to apologise because I felt like it was getting way too sensitive." Even Lana rolls her eyes back, alone with her neck.
The woman who is having an affair with me is even rooting my relationship with her on. It's a fucked up situation but all three of us are fucked up - I don't think Maisie will admit she is though.
"What the fuck did you say to her now?" I laugh shrugging. "I didn't think it would be a big deal...you know?" Lana then lowers her head and looks at me disbelieved - before I even say a thing.
"Okay-okay...so I read an article a couple of weeks ago saying that it's important that your kid knows a certain way of English. It's to help them growing up and shit...so they won't get mixed up with 'rubbish' or 'garbage' and that sort of thing" - Lana cuts me off with a nervous laugh, she must know where this is going - "so I suggested that we raise Bee up...British. So she would be 'mum' and not 'mama' or 'mom'. Bee freaked out and said that Bee is part American and that I'm going to take her side away from them. All I said was that I want to make things easier for our little girl." Lana leans forwards.
"Baby. I don't know what to say to you except that she isn't all there in that head of her's. It sounds like she doesn't like you much either..." I nod my head. Sometimes I feel that way. She used me to become a mother and she's admitted she'll use me again and again in the future. I'm nothing to her - just someone who can give her why she wants for free instead of going to fancy clinics that she can probably afford to by and own with her cash.
"More of a reason to look forward to Bee's birth, isn't it?" Lana agrees nodding her head as the waiter finally realised that we're here.
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In the name of blood
Geoffrey Robertson, real name Alexey Barintski, has his secrets, and on top of his adventurous nature also a very positive attitude towards meat. Bloody meat. After years spent with British special forces, he is getting bored, so he is starting to look for something more interesting, something more fun. However, he gets a simple message - they need help at home. Although he has not seen his blood relatives for more than a generation, he returns to his native hills and almost dies… --- A story about werewolves and vampires. Release schedule will be random, but I will try to post at least 2 chapters a month, 2000 words per chapter on average. This is my first attempt at writing, and English is not my native language, so expect a mistake or two, or three. EDIT: the past few months of my life have been hectic and I could not write much. Nonetheless, I have the story already planned out, and will finish it sooner or later.
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8 166Maitbudi
Fermboi was a man of one ideal: make the weak strong. When his rebellion against the king proved futile, he was given another chance at life. This time, he sought to do nothing after realizing the hopelessness of it all. Aventina wanted to do nothing more than to follow her father’s footsteps. On a retaliation raid against her tribe’s enemies, her brothers perished. Spared by a leader of her enemies, she returned home to find herself the chief of her tribe. Bolahulag, half-civilized and half-barbarian, half-lowborn and half-royal. Raised in his mother’s civilized tent in a sea of barbaric shelters, Bolahulag was hesitant to follow his paternal way of life. After a battle between a civilized king and his father, Bolahulag was sent as hostage to learn the economy and military of the nation his father defeated. Derai knew nothing more than being an orphan, but when a merchant took her in, the world she thought impossible soon became a reality. Monghe, stuck in a school exemplifying strength for most of his life, began to understand what he needed to do in order to be strong instead of weak. Story is mostly about nothing. Fermboi does most of the nothing. Aventina does most of the military things. Bolahulag does a balance of economy and military. Derai focuses on economy. Monghe spitfires what it means to be a typical hero. Hopefully this is enough to give a general idea to people who don’t like going blind aside from the work being purportedly “good.” Who am I kidding, my writing is terrible. I hope it improves though.
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គេជាម្ចាស់បំណុល ម្ចាស់ជីវិតរបស់នាង
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