Disclaimers: Nope, sorry, can't say there are any. All of the characters are mine. I take full responsibility for all of their actions. Hmm ... On second thought ... I've never seen them before in my life. They just followed me home one day ... really ...
Violence/Sex: No violence, I don't think. I guess that would depend on what you mean by "violence" ... I don't think there is any. You can decide for yourself. And sex? Umm ... I'll go on the safe side and say there will be. But don't go suing me for false advertisement if you can't find any. It really depends on what you mean by sex. As there are people in some cultures that show their affection by licking each other's eyeballs, it is possible that my definition of sex may be different than yours. Mine may involve cows in ballet slippers for instance ... wait, that doesn't sound right ...
Warning: This story involves an in-the closet actress, online relationships, Puerto Ricans, the Spanish language, Starbucks coffee, angels, boyfriends, sexual relationships between women .. and a ton of other random things that poured forth from my artistic loins. If none of the above things interest you, then you may not want to partake in this little tour of my demented psyche.
Dedication: to you and you and you you and you .. to people living with living with ... ::notices there are people watching:: Ahem. Sorry. Too much "RENT" for me. Strike that. There can never be too much RENT. Unless it's the kind you have to pay. But my point.. and I do have one .. is that this story is dedicated to you. Thank you for taking the time to delve into my madness. What a brave soul you are .. muahahaha <coughcough>
Special Thanks: To Amber, Cindy, Camilla, Christy, Amy, and Robin. Thank you, thank you, thank you from the bottom of my heart. I don't know what I'd do without you guys.
Write me: Cause I'd love to know what you think. I may be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org
The young man stared intently at the water, daring it to take life. Daring it to explain why his life had suddenly taken such a violent turn. His longish blonde hair was curled then straightened by the wind. His blue-green eyes shone with unshed tears. He kept his hands tucked away into the pockets of his torn jeans, fists tightening in frustration and anger.
The lake, in response, glimmered mutely in the afternoon sunlight. If it had answers, they were well hidden within its murky waters.
Kiara stood by, watching over him as was her duty. Her wings spread out behind her in silent resignation. If there was anything she could do to help him, she didn't know it.
The boy took one last look at the water and then walked away, passing by Kiara without seeing her.
The angel sighed to herself, casting ice blue eyes downward in regret and sadness. "Sometimes it sucks to be a guardian," she whispered.
"And cut!" the director yelled. "Great job, Julianne. Thatís a wrap everyone."
The set of Guardian suddenly came to life as a parade of anxious crewmembers began the daily routine of dismantling and assembling scenery. The once peaceful lake scene became a maelstrom of noise and activity.
Julianne Franqui stormed off the set, shedding the angel wings from her back in one fluid motion. She tossed them to the nearest person in her path. "Get the straps fixed," she commanded. "They were digging into my shoulder the whole time."
"Right away, Ms. Franqui," the lady replied, hurrying off to carry out the order.
Once inside her trailer, Julianne sighed loudly. "Another day of no end," she muttered to the empty room.
A knock at the door interrupted her two seconds of peace. "Come in!" she yelled impatiently.
Julianne's assistant, Karen Vaccaro, stood nervously in the doorway. In her hand she carried a stack of envelopes. "Your mail, Ms. Franqui."
Julianne glanced wearily at the bundle of correspondence. "Send them all a picture and a letter of appreciation," she replied dismissively.
"Don't you want to read any of them?" Karen asked.
Impatiently, Julianne glared at her assistant. "When do I ever?"
Karen nodded and made a note on her clipboard. "Don't forget you have that interview in New York this weekend. And MTV called again. Twice. They want you to make a guest appearance as co-host to an episode ofó" she checked her notes "óTRL?" She looked over at Julianne. "What should I tell them?"
"I'll be in New York anyway," Julianne considered. "I can fit it in. Tell them I'll do it. But I'm not signing autographs afterwards."
"Very well," Karen said, writing something down.
"Is that all?" Julianne asked, her tone unmasking her impatience.
If it wasn't, it now was. "Yes, that's all." Karen shut the door behind her as she left.
Julianne shook her head and turned her attention to the mirror before her. Her eyes reflected the lassitude she felt. Her long, dark brown hair ran down her back in a single braid, which she proceeded to loosen.
"Knock, knock," a male voice called from the now open door.
Julianne turned around, a smile parting her lips. "Adrian," she greeted. "I'm glad it's you."
"Terrorizing the little people again?" he guessed, shutting the door. He leaned his muscular frame against the table where the mirror rested.
"It's a give and take situation," Julianne replied easily, shaking her head to free the remaining strands of hair from their restraints. Now that Adrian was there, she felt ten times better.
"They give, you take?"
Julianne smiled. "Something like that." She began removing her make-up. "Hey, what are you doing this weekend?"
Adrian considered long and hard. "Doing something with you?" he asked.
"New York City, baby," she announced. "I have some publicity stuff to take care of, but afterwards I'll don a wig and some sunglasses and we can escape into the great unknown."
"I love it when you're spontaneous," he said with a smile. "So what was Karen mumbling about? Something about fan mail and you not signing autographs?"
The actress rolled her eyes. "She wants me to sit here and read all the mail I get. She probably wants me to reply to them too. Please. I don't have time for that."
Adrian studied Julianne silently for a moment. His blue eyes searched Julianne's azure ones for a reason behind the words. "Your fans love you," he said finally.
"They don't know me," Julianne replied, staring at her reflection. "They love Kiara. They'd love her regardless of the actress behind the role."
"Do you really believe that?"
Julianne finished removing the last traces of Kiara from her face. Now only herself remained. "It's just the simple truth, my dear Adrian," she explained, fastening her silver anklet in place. It was the one possession she was never without. She glanced up at her best friend. "One of these days, the show will end. My moment in the sun will pass. And I'll walk around with the rest of you mere mortals, wondering what on earth ever happened to Julianne Franqui. And I'll be the only one who cares."