Brighter Days and Broken Street Lights

  • k1ssmysass

    k1ssmysass (100)

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    Emilee Blackwell was something of an enigma - this being said in the less stereotypical way possible. She was a girl from a broken home that was once magazine worthy, but fell on hard times and harder drugs. She was a girl that pretended she was something more than the daughter of a white trash family broken down by society. She was a girl that had packed her bags weeks before her eighteenth birthday.

    There were many versions of Emilee: the toothy smiling, sarcastic waitress everyone doted upon because of her work ethic, the tougher side of herself that smoked and wore her hair in knotted curls, and then herself - the true Emilee that was beginning to fade. This was the Emilee that curled up with her rescued cotton ball of a kitten on her cheap, well-loved laptop, nabbing wifi from her neighbors and projecting pirated movies; always with tricks up her sleeve and a never-ending love for making people laugh. This was the Emilee that learned how to throw knives and curl her mouth into a sneer. This was the Emilee that had to feel the bite of the first few inhales of acrid cigarette smoke she'd taken.

    This was the Emilee that took on the suffering of her alter egos, and this was the strongest Emilee.

    On this crisp, sunset painted autumn evening, Emilee was seated outside on break, her back against the building and her lips parted bleakly, gaze wisping over the opaque cloud of vapor that came from her pursed lips, signaling the true end of summer. The quaint little diner she worked at was tame - rush hour had passed mere minutes ago, leaving her to rest her feet and check her phone for messages from fake friends and overpriced, over-hyped universities she would never even go visit.

    It had been a pleasant shift - she'd received a twenty dollar tip for being so pleasant and smiley, and only one person had left their number in place of a cash tip. Despite this, Emilee was worn down. Her face was freshly blotted with a paper towel, leaving her under eyes slightly sunken and ringed with crescent bruise-like marks from lack of sleep. Working back-to-back shifts broke her down, leaving her running on fumes and strongly brewed coffee.

    She nursed a to-go cup of something pumpkin-y in her hands, the smell burning her nostrils pleasantly with its spicy aroma. She bounced her foot on the concrete ground idly, people-watching with slitted eyes, mouth quirked upward into a ghost of a smile that never faded, not even when a group of gangly early-twenties men bounded up to the door, jostling each other and casting her short, wayward glances as they barreled through the door, the bell hung above the door chiming merrily, signaling the end of her break.

    Emilee stood in a flurry, scooping up her cup of coffee and her small military-styled bag, strung over her shoulder like it was something made for Fashion Week. She caught the door as the boys strolled in and forced her way past them, murmuring a hushed 'excuse me' as she headed over to refill someone's coffee pot.

    As she walked, tiny wisps of baby hairs tumbled out of her tidy, dusty blonde bun, framing her steeply angled, pale face. She grinned and cocked her head at the elderly couple who'd gestured for her return. "Hi - youse' all doing all right?" She chit-chatted, not really listening for a response as she lifted the coffee pot. A look of panic washed over her face, and she quickly slammed it back down onto the tiny, stained oak table, rattling dishes as well as the couple. "Uh - shoot, I--" She lowered her head and mouthed a few swears, biting her tongue as she addressed them. "...I apologize. Busy day. I wasn't thinking."

    A gnarled hand reached out to pat her arm. "Oh, hon! I thought you knew the pot was still hot. Go on - wash your hand under cold water." She waved her off in a way that made it clear it was not a request.

    Emilee, shell shocked, nodded numbly and murmured another apology before bustling off, making a beeline for the bathroom, nudging past people apologetically, the focus on her throbbing hand more than her surroundings. She hadn't pulled a stunt like that since she'd been in orientation her sophomore year of high school. She'd let a stack of plates topple over during her training with a 40-year-strong employee.

    She had a bad feeling about the rest of her shift. It was a sinking sort of feeling that kept nagging at her. She had been fine for the past few weeks of living on her own, so why was the stress just now trampling her?

    She tried to avoid thinking about it on her way toward the bathroom, walking with little care for her surroundings.
    October 12th, 2015 at 03:42am
  • BadStreetBoys

    BadStreetBoys (100)

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    Beau stared down at his most recent guard. He'd been her guardian since she was a kid. Before he the had had hundreds of people he was put in charge of, but they were not like this girl. She was actually troubled, while the others were successful and the stereotypical happy family persons. Beau had not been sure how to handle her.

    Beau didn't like to step into his guards lives, his job was to keep them safe as possible, but without changing who they are and their life's course. With the others this meant little interference. But Beau senses with this girl things would be different, she was a rough one, it worried him deeply.

    Beau liked living in what the mortals considered heaven, it was safe and pleasant, although nothing like they'd come up with in their religions. It was like life on earth, just without the violence and with angels and other immortal species. His small home was one of a common guardian angel, but it had a few flares here and there to signify it as his own. He went up to his bedroom and looking in the mirror, running a hand through his hair.

    "What am I gonna do?" He asked himself and sighed, looking down. Beau knew he had to step into her life, he wasn't going to let Emilee do anymore harm, though she might not see it that way, he knew what lay ahead in that path.

    Beau headed into his closet, rifling through the mortal clothing he could wear on his trip down to earth, to hide the large white wings he had upon his back. Which he deemed useless, Angels could teleport, why fly? It was useful, but not as useful as teleporting. He grabbed a pair of dark jeans, a button up plaid shirt, and a dark brown overcoat. Beau dressed himself before heading back and grabbing a simple tie, pleased with the now finished product.

    Beau made his way outside and out into town, he had to get some advice, and money, before he could go down there. His first stop was the bank, he made the exchange, asking his teller their advice. His second stop was to the Guardian Center, he had to clear his trip to earth with them first, which it was.

    Beau then teleported himself down into her town, he headed to a car dealership, buying a relatively cheap, but nice, car and heading to the small restaurant that Emilee worked in. He looking into his watch to check on her, heading inside only once she was out. He sat himself down at Emilee's table and waited.
    October 12th, 2015 at 04:02am
  • k1ssmysass

    k1ssmysass (100)

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    The injury didn't keep Emilee down for long. She was back to the floor after a quick dousing of icy water over her raw hand. Luckily, it was her non-dominant hand, making it easier to conceal.

    She'd been making her way around, but was lingering at the obnoxious group of boy's stretch of a table, gently pointed jaw set as they bickered back and forth, changing their orders and then changing them back again.

    "Hey," One of the goons murmured, flicking her notepad to nab her attention. "You look like y'needa' pick-me-up. Ya' want your tip early.." Catching Emilee's brief puzzled expression, he leaned in, flicking a set of dark, caterpillar like brows she was getting lost in. "You're a smart girl. I know I don't gotta spell it out for you. You here instead of a street-corner, but I know where you from, girl," He went on, taking advantage of her stunned silence.

    "...or you could give me the cash equivalent." Emilee said meekly, toeing the boundary line. Depending on the quality of what he was offering, she could score a twenty dollar tip from reselling it.

    "You're funny, girl. Real funny." He replied, gruffly grabbing her hand and closing her fingers over a small baggy. Emilee's mouth twitched as she dragged her hand away, quickly pocketing the baggy of yellowish powder." She'd never held onto drugs, much less considered selling them for rent money.

    "Okay," She whispered, more to herself than him. The baggy was burning a hole in her pocket. It made the pain in her hand feel like nothing.

    "Now get us some goddamn fries. I'm starvin.'" He waved her off, and off she went, scooching through lanes of tables until she bounded up to Beau's table of one.

    "Hiya. Welcome to Morello's Diner, what can I start 'ya off with?" Emilee spoke around what felt like a locked jaw. She looked relaxed enough - like an ordinary, worn out waitress... besides the frenzied look deep within her liquid, icicle blue eyes. She tucked a few tufts of hair behind her ears with her burnt hand, too frazzled to remember to conceal it.

    @ BadStreetBoys
    October 12th, 2015 at 04:34am
  • k1ssmysass

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    October 12th, 2015 at 04:34am
  • k1ssmysass

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    October 12th, 2015 at 04:34am
  • k1ssmysass

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    October 12th, 2015 at 04:35am
  • k1ssmysass

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    October 12th, 2015 at 04:35am
  • k1ssmysass

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    October 12th, 2015 at 04:35am
  • k1ssmysass

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    October 12th, 2015 at 04:35am
  • k1ssmysass

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    October 12th, 2015 at 04:35am
  • k1ssmysass

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    The injury didn't keep Emilee down for long. She was back to the floor after a quick dousing of icy water over her raw hand. Luckily, it was her non-dominant hand, making it easier to conceal.

    She'd been making her way around, but was lingering at the obnoxious group of boy's stretch of a table, gently pointed jaw set as they bickered back and forth, changing their orders and then changing them back again.

    "Hey," One of the goons murmured, flicking her notepad to nab her attention. "You look like y'needa' pick-me-up. Ya' want your tip early.." Catching Emilee's brief puzzled expression, he leaned in, flicking a set of dark, caterpillar like brows she was getting lost in. "You're a smart girl. I know I don't gotta spell it out for you. You here instead of a street-corner, but I know where you from, girl," He went on, taking advantage of her stunned silence.

    "...or you could give me the cash equivalent." Emilee said meekly, toeing the boundary line. Depending on the quality of what he was offering, she could score a twenty dollar tip from reselling it.

    "You're funny, girl. Real funny." He replied, gruffly grabbing her hand and closing her fingers over a small baggy. Emilee's mouth twitched as she dragged her hand away, quickly pocketing the baggy of yellowish powder." She'd never held onto drugs, much less considered selling them for rent money.

    "Okay," She whispered, more to herself than him. The baggy was burning a hole in her pocket. It made the pain in her hand feel like nothing.

    "Now get us some goddamn fries. I'm starvin.'" He waved her off, and off she went, scooching through lanes of tables until she bounded up to Beau's table of one.

    "Hiya. Welcome to Morello's Diner, what can I start 'ya off with?" Emilee spoke around what felt like a locked jaw. She looked relaxed enough - like an ordinary, worn out waitress... besides the frenzied look deep within her liquid, icicle blue eyes. She tucked a few tufts of hair behind her ears with her burnt hand, too frazzled to remember to conceal it.

    @ BadStreetBoys
    October 12th, 2015 at 04:35am
  • BadStreetBoys

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    Beau frowned as he watched what the rowdy male had done, 'God damn it' He thought to himself 'not on my watch.' Beau didn't want his guard in trouble, so he knew he had to somehow get the drugs from her without raising suspicion. His mind toggled over the possibilities of doing so.

    As he thought that over, Beau grabbed a menu and looked over it, he had decided what to order before Emilee even had the chance to walk away from the group of loud young men, whom he had grown a hatred for already.

    As she approached his table Beau held out his hand. "Don't ruin your life with a trip to jail fr a few extra bucks." He said, as straight faced as someone could be. "Your tip will be a lot better if you just give it to me." He said, his face still unfaltering.

    Beau looked down at the menu, and with his other hand he pointed out a meal option, the most expensive one. "I'd like this, but you can start me off with coffee, black, or however you thinks best." He said and shrugged. It had been awhile since Beau had coffee, he didn't remember what it was, let alone now he took it.
    October 12th, 2015 at 04:45am
  • k1ssmysass

    k1ssmysass (100)

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    Emilee cocked her head. "Pardon? You think I'd listen to someone claimin' to have my best interests in mind? You must have misunderstood what you were seeing. I guarantee I've done nothin' that will get me into trouble." She jotted down his order, and rested the top of the pen against the cushion of her lower lip. "I'll bring a few different kinds of creamer. Sugar too," She had to focus on her breathing, making it much more difficult to keep her charismatic facade. Now that she knew someone had seen, she felt inclined to go flush it then and there, but she couldn't excuse herself so hastily.
    October 12th, 2015 at 04:57am
  • BadStreetBoys

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    Beau shook his head and kept his hand held out. "Emilee, just hand it over." He said stubbornly. Beau hated to be rude, but at the moment his job was to keep this girl safe and out of trouble, if that's how he did it, so be it. He looked up at her with soft eyes. Beau had never really interacted with his guards, he didn't realize how much he actually cared, he loved them all, but it was different being with one. "And thank you for that." He said in relation to his coffee.
    October 12th, 2015 at 01:45pm
  • k1ssmysass

    k1ssmysass (100)

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    Emilee always had the same question at the very tip of her tongue: 'how do you know my name?' Despite having worn a name tag for the last two years, her head always whirled around in shock when she heard her name.

    "Why are you actin' like you know me?" She jumped on the fearful, paranoid instinct she'd grown up strengthening. "I apologize for being unprofessional, but I really believe you've got what just happened misunderstood." She cleared her throat and straightened her spine to appear less frazzled.

    She couldn't walk away with it now. She pressed her lips together until they paled several shades. She'd walk purposefully toward the bathroom, making a scene about it so the twinkle-eyed man would understand: she was not one of them - one of the unfortunates that never found the muse to live a better life.
    October 12th, 2015 at 10:36pm
  • k1ssmysass

    k1ssmysass (100)

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    Emilee always had the same question at the very tip of her tongue: 'how do you know my name?' Despite having worn a name tag for the last two years, her head always whirled around in shock when she heard her name.

    "Why are you actin' like you know me?" She jumped on the fearful, paranoid instinct she'd grown up strengthening. "I apologize for being unprofessional, but I really believe you've got what just happened misunderstood." She cleared her throat and straightened her spine to appear less frazzled.

    She couldn't walk away with it now. She pressed her lips together until they paled several shades. She'd walk purposefully toward the bathroom, making a scene about it so the twinkle-eyed man would understand: she was not one of them - one of the unfortunates that never found the muse to live a better life.
    October 12th, 2015 at 10:36pm
  • BadStreetBoys

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    Beau sighed heavily, ignoring her question. It crossed his mind just to come straight out and tell her he was a guardian, her guardian. But more than likely that would fail. His other thought was just to present himself as some type of business man interested in here, unbelievable maybe, but better than the first. Beau decided on the latter option.

    Beau took a small notebook from his jacket pocket and wrote down a few notes to remember what he had to do and who he presented himself as. Beau was dressed decently, it was passable. He was proud of her for dumping it, and his idea to try and get her on the right track.

    When Emilee came back with his food he reached out and held a piece of notebook paper out to her. "This is my name, number, and name of my company. You made a good decision." He said and smiled up at her. "If you need anything, please give me a call." He said and bit his lip trying to make it more believable. "I own my own company, I could try and get you a job."
    October 13th, 2015 at 01:22am
  • k1ssmysass

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    Emilee was clumsy until something competitive was involved - who could carry so many plates at once, who could deliver drinks to the correct patrons in the least amount of time...

    There were little games they all played to pretend their jobs were something pleasant and cheery.

    She sat his plate down with false grace and flashed a smile, glad to be rid of that little felony in her pocket. She smiled with a single dimple, the other half of her lips curled too much to produce another. Her smile slowly faded as a slip of paper was thrust out at her. "Oh! Okay - thank you?" She sounded, for once, timid rather than rough-and-tumble.

    'He's gotta be messing with me. Or maybe he's a fuckin' pimp. Or one of those guys involved in human trafficking...' Her mind wandered a mile a minute, leaving him behind. She went about the rest of her shift in a slightly shocked stupor that made her feel so faraway that it was almost pleasant.

    She laughed empty laughs at jokes and complimented outfits and hair. She fake-flirted with an early twenty-something man for a hefty tip. She did all of these things that brought her joy and amusement, but she felt hollow that day. Exhausted. Puzzled.

    And this continued when she headed out of the diner, locking up behind her, money stuffed in her shirt and pace hurried. She knew it wasn't her day, and didn't want to risk worsening it by missing her bus home.
    October 13th, 2015 at 01:40am
  • k1ssmysass

    k1ssmysass (100)

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    Emilee was clumsy until something competitive was involved - who could carry so many plates at once, who could deliver drinks to the correct patrons in the least amount of time...

    There were little games they all played to pretend their jobs were something pleasant and cheery.

    She sat his plate down with false grace and flashed a smile, glad to be rid of that little felony in her pocket. She smiled with a single dimple, the other half of her lips curled too much to produce another. Her smile slowly faded as a slip of paper was thrust out at her. "Oh! Okay - thank you?" She sounded, for once, timid rather than rough-and-tumble.

    'He's gotta be messing with me. Or maybe he's a fuckin' pimp. Or one of those guys involved in human trafficking...' Her mind wandered a mile a minute, leaving him behind. She went about the rest of her shift in a slightly shocked stupor that made her feel so faraway that it was almost pleasant.

    She laughed empty laughs at jokes and complimented outfits and hair. She fake-flirted with an early twenty-something man for a hefty tip. She did all of these things that brought her joy and amusement, but she felt hollow that day. Exhausted. Puzzled.

    And this continued when she headed out of the diner, locking up behind her, money stuffed in her shirt and pace hurried. She knew it wasn't her day, and didn't want to risk worsening it by missing her bus home.
    October 13th, 2015 at 01:40am
  • BadStreetBoys

    BadStreetBoys (100)

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    Beau had left a nearly two hundred dollar tip for Emilee, however he didn't really leave the restaurant. Choosing to stay outside in the car awaiting her shifts end. Through the time Beau flipped through the radio stations trying to find something interesting to him. As well as checking out the statistics he had down in his watch.

    When Emilee exits the diner Beau exited his car and walked over to her, hands stuff in his pockets. "Hey, Emilee." He said quietly. Looking her up and down, Beau kept the distance to insure not scaring her away, this all felt so awkward for him. He didn't know what to do next, or what to stay. Instead just allowing himself to go with the flow. His hand motioned towards the car. "Let me give you a ride home, talk about the offer." He said, offering her another smile to try and ease the situation.

    Beau pulls his hands from his pockets, emptying them as well to show he had nothing on him. "I don't want you to feel unsafe, I promise you're safer with me than anywhere else in this world." To her it may have sounded like an exaggeration, but it was the truth, as her guardian he would die for her, and do anything for her.
    October 13th, 2015 at 01:55am