Girl Getting Bitter
Head over Heel
Marseille's streets were already buzzing with life by the time the sun rose. Shops had opened their doors to curious civilians and the variety of aromas filled the streets. Soon, windows began flinging open to let sunlight and warmth into their homes and children ran out of doors and towards school. The city of Marseilles woke up to the world and began its usual ritual. Small and large boats began docking in the Marseilles Port, carrying imported goods from many other countries and places in France.
Anastasie Cole casually walked down the boulevard d'Athènes, her bag hanging from her shoulder. Anastasie was a tall, thin girl with slightly tanned skin, her chocolate brown hair accenting her blue eyes. Marseilles had been Anastasie's home for fourteen of her eighteen years of life. Her mother and herself had once lived in the bustling Paris, France, but after her mother died she moved to Marseilles on her own. The boulevard was already full of people walking to and fro and Anastasie let out a sigh before hurrying down the street.
Suddenly, Anastasie's foot was yanked backward and she almost toppled over onto the pavement. She looked down and noticed the back of her black heel has gotten caught in a gap in the concrete. She gave her leg a few gentle tugs before giving up and simply sliding her foot out of the heel. Anastasie bent down to try and remove the heel but it wasn't moving an inch towards her. In a moment's notice, a young man had bent down to help her with a smile. He wiggled the heel a few times before it popped out of the gap and he politely handed it to her.
Anastasie let out an embarrassed chuckle and took the shoe with a whispered 'thank you.' The young man gave her a long look before smiling and standing up alongside her, holding his hand out to Anastasie with a broad, white smile.
"Um. .hi. I'm Niklas, a local actor. I'm actually in a bit of a bind and I know it sounds really weird, but could you go meet someone with me?"
"I guess, but I really ha--" Anastasie yelped as Niklastook her hand and rushed down the road.
Anastasie cursed herself for wearing heels but kept up with Niklas as he made a sharp turn down another road. Anastasie looked up and saw an older man approaching them, one that looked about in his forties or late thirties. Niklas slowed down and let Anastasie catch her breath, pulling her in front of him as they came closer to the older man. Under his arm, Anastasie noticed he was carrying a large brown bag and some equipment with him. She bit her bottom lip gently and looked up into his blue eyes. He was rather tall, not so much taller than Niklas, and had short dirty blond hair, with a little bit of stubble on his chin. He smiled down at the two youths and slapped a hand on Niklas' shoulder.
"Good work, Niklas. I didn't think you'd find anyone."
Anastasie turned a gave Niklas an awkward look before shrugging his hand off of her arm. She backed away from the two men, grasping the straps of her bag tightly before asking in a trembling voice,
"W-what are the two of you going to do?" Anastasie could feel the heat rising to her cheeks as she blushed under the two men's scrutinizing eyes, digging into her features as they scanned every visible inch of her fair skin.
"Nothing," the older man smiled. "Niklas was simply helping me find a model for a new project. He's just not the most charming assistant,"
Niklas smiled sheepishly before shrugging. "Well I found someone, didn't I?" He whined.
Anastasie's eyes darted between Niklas , and who was apparently Charlot, before she sighed and nodded her consent. Anastasie had been looking for some modeling work but she never expected to come about it like this. Both men smiled at her and Niklas crossed his arms as a strong wind swept by. His short brown hair was blown into his face and his pouty lower lip stuck out.
"Can we just hurry up and get somewhere warm? I think it's supposed to rain today and I don't want to get my hair wet," Niklas whined, looking up at Charlot with emerald orbs.
Anastasie moved her hand over her mouth to try and muffle her giggling but the two men heard her and soon, Charlot had joined her laughing. Poor Niklas didn't know what was going on.
↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓
Charlot, Niklas, and Anastasie had just made it into Charlot's house when the rain began pouring down. Invisible raindrops turned Marseilles gray and the people that once filled the streets had all dispersed to take cover from the storm. Niklas shrugged off and black jacket and kicked off his shoes, padding barefooted into Charlot's kitchen. Charlot chuckled and led Anastasie into the living room, turning and calling out to Niklas.
"It was nice of you to show our guest through the house, Niklas!" Charlot teased.
Niklas shuffled into the living room, pouting as much as he could with a mouth full of a black raspberry pastry creme that Charlot made for him. His hazel eyes twinkled in mischievous manner but Niklas put his fork down, swallowed, and apologized to Anastasie. Charlot nodded his acceptance and Niklas smiled, bouncing happily over to the couch and plunking down next to Anastasie.
"So," he started, swallowing another fork full of lettuce. "How long have you been in modeling?"
"Uhm. .since I was sixteen. I started early, in a high school photography class. I loved modeling so much and I always got compliments on my work, so I decided to seriously pursue a career in modeling. But I haven't gotten any real work yet because I'm supposedly too young." Anastasie sunk back into the couch and crossed her legs as she explained.
"Well, how old are you?" Charlot asked, sitting on the arm of the chair closest to his guest.
"I'm eighteen, fresh out of high school."
Charlot nodded and for a moment seemed deep in thought before turning to the two youths on his couch.
"You two can watch something if you'd like," he said, waving his hand towards the TV. "Would you like something to eat, uhmm. ."
"Anastasie."
"Anastasie! Totally, yeah. Would you like something to eat?"
Anastasie thought for a moment for smiling up at Charlot and nodding. "Yes, I would."
"Okay, I'll be right back," Charlot rose from the armrest and made his way into the kitchen, looking into the refrigerator for anything he could turn into a meal.
Quietly, Niklas leaned over and whispered to Anastasie. "Charlot's a really good cook, but he's also really eccentric for his age so he takes things a tad too seriously, sometimes."
Niklas smiled his wide smile when Anastasie began laughing, much to the confusion of their cook.
Anastasie Cole casually walked down the boulevard d'Athènes, her bag hanging from her shoulder. Anastasie was a tall, thin girl with slightly tanned skin, her chocolate brown hair accenting her blue eyes. Marseilles had been Anastasie's home for fourteen of her eighteen years of life. Her mother and herself had once lived in the bustling Paris, France, but after her mother died she moved to Marseilles on her own. The boulevard was already full of people walking to and fro and Anastasie let out a sigh before hurrying down the street.
Suddenly, Anastasie's foot was yanked backward and she almost toppled over onto the pavement. She looked down and noticed the back of her black heel has gotten caught in a gap in the concrete. She gave her leg a few gentle tugs before giving up and simply sliding her foot out of the heel. Anastasie bent down to try and remove the heel but it wasn't moving an inch towards her. In a moment's notice, a young man had bent down to help her with a smile. He wiggled the heel a few times before it popped out of the gap and he politely handed it to her.
Anastasie let out an embarrassed chuckle and took the shoe with a whispered 'thank you.' The young man gave her a long look before smiling and standing up alongside her, holding his hand out to Anastasie with a broad, white smile.
"Um. .hi. I'm Niklas, a local actor. I'm actually in a bit of a bind and I know it sounds really weird, but could you go meet someone with me?"
"I guess, but I really ha--" Anastasie yelped as Niklastook her hand and rushed down the road.
Anastasie cursed herself for wearing heels but kept up with Niklas as he made a sharp turn down another road. Anastasie looked up and saw an older man approaching them, one that looked about in his forties or late thirties. Niklas slowed down and let Anastasie catch her breath, pulling her in front of him as they came closer to the older man. Under his arm, Anastasie noticed he was carrying a large brown bag and some equipment with him. She bit her bottom lip gently and looked up into his blue eyes. He was rather tall, not so much taller than Niklas, and had short dirty blond hair, with a little bit of stubble on his chin. He smiled down at the two youths and slapped a hand on Niklas' shoulder.
"Good work, Niklas. I didn't think you'd find anyone."
Anastasie turned a gave Niklas an awkward look before shrugging his hand off of her arm. She backed away from the two men, grasping the straps of her bag tightly before asking in a trembling voice,
"W-what are the two of you going to do?" Anastasie could feel the heat rising to her cheeks as she blushed under the two men's scrutinizing eyes, digging into her features as they scanned every visible inch of her fair skin.
"Nothing," the older man smiled. "Niklas was simply helping me find a model for a new project. He's just not the most charming assistant,"
Niklas smiled sheepishly before shrugging. "Well I found someone, didn't I?" He whined.
Anastasie's eyes darted between Niklas , and who was apparently Charlot, before she sighed and nodded her consent. Anastasie had been looking for some modeling work but she never expected to come about it like this. Both men smiled at her and Niklas crossed his arms as a strong wind swept by. His short brown hair was blown into his face and his pouty lower lip stuck out.
"Can we just hurry up and get somewhere warm? I think it's supposed to rain today and I don't want to get my hair wet," Niklas whined, looking up at Charlot with emerald orbs.
Anastasie moved her hand over her mouth to try and muffle her giggling but the two men heard her and soon, Charlot had joined her laughing. Poor Niklas didn't know what was going on.
↓ ↓ ↓ ↓ ↓
Charlot, Niklas, and Anastasie had just made it into Charlot's house when the rain began pouring down. Invisible raindrops turned Marseilles gray and the people that once filled the streets had all dispersed to take cover from the storm. Niklas shrugged off and black jacket and kicked off his shoes, padding barefooted into Charlot's kitchen. Charlot chuckled and led Anastasie into the living room, turning and calling out to Niklas.
"It was nice of you to show our guest through the house, Niklas!" Charlot teased.
Niklas shuffled into the living room, pouting as much as he could with a mouth full of a black raspberry pastry creme that Charlot made for him. His hazel eyes twinkled in mischievous manner but Niklas put his fork down, swallowed, and apologized to Anastasie. Charlot nodded his acceptance and Niklas smiled, bouncing happily over to the couch and plunking down next to Anastasie.
"So," he started, swallowing another fork full of lettuce. "How long have you been in modeling?"
"Uhm. .since I was sixteen. I started early, in a high school photography class. I loved modeling so much and I always got compliments on my work, so I decided to seriously pursue a career in modeling. But I haven't gotten any real work yet because I'm supposedly too young." Anastasie sunk back into the couch and crossed her legs as she explained.
"Well, how old are you?" Charlot asked, sitting on the arm of the chair closest to his guest.
"I'm eighteen, fresh out of high school."
Charlot nodded and for a moment seemed deep in thought before turning to the two youths on his couch.
"You two can watch something if you'd like," he said, waving his hand towards the TV. "Would you like something to eat, uhmm. ."
"Anastasie."
"Anastasie! Totally, yeah. Would you like something to eat?"
Anastasie thought for a moment for smiling up at Charlot and nodding. "Yes, I would."
"Okay, I'll be right back," Charlot rose from the armrest and made his way into the kitchen, looking into the refrigerator for anything he could turn into a meal.
Quietly, Niklas leaned over and whispered to Anastasie. "Charlot's a really good cook, but he's also really eccentric for his age so he takes things a tad too seriously, sometimes."
Niklas smiled his wide smile when Anastasie began laughing, much to the confusion of their cook.