October 21 Hello, Repenters! I hope you're having a wonderful week! We're almost halfway to Friday! Today the ACTIVITY CHECK was posted, so please, please, please go save your characters! You have until October 31 to save the ones you want to continue playing. Spotlight nominations will be posted soon after the activity check closes, so be sure to think about who you would like to nominate!

October 5 IT'S HERE. OUR NEW SKIN IS FINALLY HERE! As you can see, the staff is super excited, and we hope that you lovely members are too! There is a bunch of new stuffs but also a lot of the same! For all of the details about the new skin, PLEASE READ THIS ANNOUNCMENT!

updates
currently no new articles to report. read more
click to send tips ♥
art festival
OCT 11-12 Calling all artists! The Austin Independent School District is hosting an art festival at a local high school in order to raise funds for the school year. Students have been working vigorously for the past two months to organize the event, and come October 10, their hard work will come to fruition. Local singing and dancing acts will be singing down on the football field; dozens of concessions will be set up in the parking lot to sell food, arts and crafts, clothes, and more! Everyone is welcome; in fact, they’re encouraged to come down and pay tribute to the local artists around town. Not enough incentive for you? Celebrity endorsements will be present at the event to sign autographs and interact with fans, so come on down and share a home-made cookie with your favorite television actor or country singer! CLICK TO READ MORE
events

 
Add Reply
New Topic

 i ain't crazy, girl, tag: bri/char
JAGGER ROITFELD
 Posted: Oct 1 2014, 05:24 PM
Quote
ABBS is currently Offline
20
years old
student/drug dealer
heterosexual
In a Relationship
20 posts
I'll be your light, your match, your burning sun, I'll be the bright, in black that's makin' you run. And we'll feel alright, and we'll feel alright, 'Cause we'll work it out, yeah we'll work it out. I'll be doin' this, if you had a doubt, 'Til the love runs out, 'til the love runs out.
college student





their verdict's in, my choice is you



there are some things they tell you when you're preparing to grow up. you'll have your heart broken, you'll fail some classes just as you'll pass with flying colours, those guys you think are your friends won't be when it really matters, and your first time isn't going to be anything spectacular no matter how much porn you watch. but what they don't tell you, is that the first time you try drugs, you'll be hooked. they also don't tell you that being a drug dealer isn't as luxurious as it sounds. also, they don't tell you that if you are a drug dealer, you are going to get caught. and you will find yourself in court, on the stand, alone, looking out at the tearstained faces of everyone you know, defending your innocence. even when it's a complete bold faced lie. they fail to mention that your girlfriend who you think will be there forever by your side because, like she says, she's in love with you, will come to fear you. they don't tell you how hard it is to lie to them, lie when you've sworn you won't. and they definitely don't tell you how hard it is to watch your mother scream for her baby when you're being led out of your house, half naked, in the middle of the night, because someone squealed. they definitely don't tell you any of that. you always think "that won't be me". when someone gets cancer, it won't be you. when someone gets pregnant the first time they have sex unprotected. that won't be you. and when someone gets caught with half a million dollars worth of drugs in their bedroom. that definitely won't be you. it won't be, until it is.

jagger ran an anxious hand through his hair, staring at his reflection. his eyes sunken, dark purple bags hanging beneath the green eyes that have become lacklustre with the absence of sleep. staring at the tattoos that blanket your chest and left arm, all meaningless, as if you could rip them off and one by one retrieve the money and time spent on them. decorating a body that, if he was lucky, no one would see for twenty years. to life. he swallowed, fighting back a lump in his throat. he always forgot that part. to life. two words that literally meant your entire life. you could either grow up to be old, go through all the things your parents warned you about, the things you spent your whole life preparing for. or you won't. you'll see the same four walls for the rest of your life because you decided when you were eleven that selling weed to your friends was "no big deal". you were tall for your age, and mature enough looking that you didn't look eleven. but still baby-faced enough that no one suspected you. not even when they brought the drug dogs into your middle school for a demonstration, and they indicated at your locker. not even when they pulled out a baggy of weed from the bottom shelf. it was planted, the older kids. "we'll investigate", they said. but you never heard anything. by high school you were invincible, no one ever knew you for being the kid that stirred up trouble, just the kid everyone wanted to be friends with. every time something bad happened, it just happened that it would disappear. you were off the hook? or so you thought. until you realized how many missed calls that your house had from the school. it was scary, they knew. but nope, they were thanking you for continued "support". your dad had bought off every last one of them, and it worked. no doubt. enough money could fix anything.

apparently unless it was the united states government. this wasn't the local NYPD coming to your door to ensure that there wasn't "drug use" at this party, when they could see from looking at your far off expression that there was some hard shit going down. this was the government of the united states of america. they meant business. and they were gonna, and quote: lock your ass up. if you thought it was scary before, you knew nothing. not even as you did up the solitary suit button around your middle, adjusting the tie that hung neatly down to your belt. it was the finest, prada, chanel, louis v. thanks to your side-job, you had enough money to buy anything your heart desired, and it started with clothes. jagger cleared his throat gently, wiping his eyes from the glistening state they were perpetually stuck in these days. there was no room for cry babies in court, that's what they said. downstairs he expected to see his parents loading up the car, ready with his bag in case they took him right after his sentence. they were haggard looking too, crying every spare moment of the day behind closed doors like he couldn't hear. like he didn't know? but there was nothing. they'd left hours ago, they had to "subdue the family", so they said. even his sisters were gone. at the bottom of the stairs lay the family's large, black great dane. he lifted his massive head and weakly wagged his tail, unsure. jagger hadn't exactly been a ball of sunshine to be around, even his charming nature dissolving as the days till his court date did the same. he descended the long, marble and wood stairs, stroking the dog's velvet head as he reached him. "this is it, draco." he still half smiled, remembering his sister's obsession with the harry potter franchise when they adopted the large jet black puppy into their family. the dog leaned his massive body against jagger's long legs, sighing. "i know. fuck me, right?" he managed a smile, genuine as he could muster, enjoying the last company he might have with the animal. glad to be a dog person.

after the dog was dozing off into yet another heap of black fur, he grabbed one set of car keys from the twelve hooks by the door. a different vehicle for each hook, and two already missing as his family members had taken them. he turned and looked up the staircase at the left and right wings of the house. his green eyes tracing and memorizing every crack, nook, and cranny. no time to be sentimental. he reminded himself, snatching the keys to the range rover, and shut the door behind him. there was a distinct echo through the walls of the home as well as off the trees that hid the estate from the road. the rover was parked in the driveway, as if his parents knew he'd want to drive his favourite car that day. it was next to the maserati that he had gotten for his 19th birthday, and next to the lamborghini he was promised was ordered and sitting in italy ready for his 21st. but, it was his most used. more... practical. he slid into the comfort contoured interior and lavished in the silence as he moved the vehicle down the road and through the busy streets of manhattan and the upper east side before arriving at the first vacant parking spot he could see. it was about two blocks away from the courthouse, and it was snowing, but it gave him time to make his move through nyc for the last time. planting darkly shaded sunglasses across his eyes, he kept his mouth shut, took lots of deep breaths, and made his way down the road. bright white snowflakes fell from the open sky, the cold air burning his lungs with the breaths he took to calm himself down, casting a sharp contrast against the dark buildings that seemed to enclose them. the people were busy as ever, and he wondered if anyone ever thought what other people were doing. just passively wondering what all these other busy people were doing today. his stomach churned, knowing that they would all get out of work, go home, have a home cooked meal, and sleep next to their husbands and wives, kiss their kids goodnight and be able to wake up the next morning in the same city and do it all over again. jagger on the other hand, would be lucky to see the light of day after today.

the massive pillars in front of the courthouse were looming and intimidating, but he kept his head down and proceeded past the press that swarmed without a hiccup. they knew him. they plastered him across their front pages as "the spoiled rich boy that finally got caught" or some of them were kind enough to call him conniving, sneaky, or slimy. it was all in a days work, his dad would say, if they were speaking. he slid his sunglasses off and into his briefcase as soon as he reached the indoors, unbuttoning the thick, black wool trench coat from around him. just as he set his bag on the ground to pull off the leather gloves from his hands, slipping them in with the glasses, he saw a pair of finely tailored black dress shoes in the edge of his plane of vision. raising his eyebrows, jagger looked up, mouth slightly agape. you showed up. it was more a statement, although it did have a slight surprised tone to the edge of the words. his father stood before him, hands in his pockets, looking less powerful than he remembered. "yeah." jagger sniffed a laugh, throwing his hands in his pockets, shrugging slightly. "i don't really have a choice." he said, a meek smile slightly pulling at the edge of his lips. sure you do. you always have a choice. his father sounded more sincere than he ever imagined him to be. and even more surprising was the hug that his broad shouldered, salt-and-pepper-haired father scooped him into. jagger tried not to dissolve, which was made even harder as he smelled his mother's perfume on his shoulder. she'd been here too, grasping on for dear life, just as jagger's hands slightly grasped the suit jacket across his father's back. the man held the back of jagger's head, ruffling his curls slightly, just as he always did. he caught a breath in his throat, breathing deeply. you always have a choice. and you're always my son. he said softly, but in his ever deep and strong voice. jagger stood up straight, a good two inches taller than his father, both of them no doubt a sight to be seen when it came to tall, lanky men. as he met his father's eyes, for what seemed like it would be the last time, he saw the tiredness, the guilt, and the fear. that he no doubt had caused every member of his family. as he tried to keep himself together for a little bit longer, his father broke eye contact with him, flickering to something over jagger's shoulder. his mouth twitched upwards in a smile slightly, as he tipped his forehead as an indication. jagger turned slowly, looking over his shoulder at who was approaching. no doubt someone here to see him get his ass handed to him. but it wasn't, or maybe it was. all he knew was he was dropping his coat, crossing the immaculate marble floor in three long strides, and scooping her up before he could stop himself. "i'm so glad you're here." he breathed shakily.

BRI/CHAR


p.s. I LOVE YOU TILL THE END OF TIME
PMEmailWebsiteGTalkAIMYIMMSN
^
BRISTOL FONTAINE
 Posted: Oct 2 2014, 08:02 PM
Quote
CHAR is currently Offline
19
years old
unemployed
heterosexual
It's Complicated
8 posts
coming soon
tourist


it's one step forward and two in reverse
Mrs. Fontaine’s heels clicked upon the kitchen floor, and Mr. Fontaine’s fingers gently rustled the newspaper as he turned the page. Soon after, a spoon rattled inside a freshly brewed cup of coffee, and again the newspaper rustled. Bristol stared down into the pitch black cup of liquid sitting motionless in her hands. Her parent’s morning routine had gone completely uninterrupted despite the gravity weighing on that morning. Only she showed any indication of anxiety for the event to come. The once-warm coffee had been the only source of heat in her body, but even that had grown cold with the passage of time. Her appetite was ruined. She worried that the slightest sip would trigger a violent upheaval of whatever she had left in the empty pit of her stomach. Ever since Jagger’s lawyer had contacted her to testify in Jagger’s favor her appetite had been shot. Jagger busted? An oxymoron at best. Not reality. No, not Jagger. He had always covered his tracks well—pristinely so. Bristol swore it could be no accident that the police finally sniffed out his trail days after she pulled the plug on their relationship… and if that rang true, she had no right to be anywhere near the trial. She trembled at the thought of facing him, dreaded the possibility that he might rue her existence.

Then again, not every corner of her subconscious was dowsed in guilt. One dimly lit corner of her conscience rejoiced at the news of her ex-boyfriend’s trial. For the most part, she accepted Jagger’s side job. He never involved her in any of his dealings. Not intentionally. But even when a client showed up out of the blue unanticipated he always prioritized her safety, whispering in her ear to go on ahead and wait for him in the nearest restaurant or boutique until it was safe for them to be together again. His gentle overprotectiveness always assured her that she had nothing to worry about as long as he had a say in it. Still, Bristol would be lying if she said that she never wanted Jagger to escape the world of drug dealing. If he had there was no doubt in her mind that she would’ve slept better at night. They would’ve fought less, loved more? Of that Bristol could not confirm nor deny. All the nerve endings in her body burned red hot whenever someone simply dropped his name around her. Her heart ached to be in his warm embrace every second of every minute of every hour of every day. In essence, her love for him reached full capacity and then some. A glimmer of hope flickered weakly in her chest: the jury would sympathize with him, and when they did and Jagger served the minimal amount of jail time, she could finally be with him. He would finally be clean.

“I do hope you intend on finishing that.” Bristol’s gaze broke away from the coffee mug and met her mother’s expectant stare. The voice had registered, but the words had lost their way in the labyrinthine thoughts tunneling through her head. “Bristol?” Bristol blinked: yes, she was now listening. “I said I hope you intend on finishing that.” Oh, right. The coffee. Bristol’s head quivered in place: no, she didn’t intend to bother with the cooled beverage. “Really? What a waste.” Mrs. Fontaine stepped forward and slipped the mug from her grasp. For a brief moment Bristol’s hands remained though the object that they held was no longer present, but soon enough she recovered the wits about her to drop her hands into her lap. Rather than stare at the same spot on the counter that her coffee had previously occupied, Bristol stared blankly at her surroundings. The ornamented kitchen possessed not one speck of dust anywhere, and the neatly folded newspaper was the only evidence apart from Bristol and Mrs. Fontaine’s presence that indicated the house was indeed inhabited.

“Where’s daddy?” Mrs. Fontaine’s eyes narrowed. “Did you not hear him say goodbye to you? He left for work already, as I’m nearly ready to do myself.” Bristol frowned. How did she miss her father’s farewells? Had her thoughts truly hypnotized her so much as to make her forget her own father? So it appeared. “I’m sorry. I must have zoned out or something. I really should prepare myself for Jagger’s hearing. I’d hate to be late.” Mrs. Fontaine nodded, a stiff, curt movement. “Very well. Be sure to lock up before you go, and remember Imelda is scheduled to come and clean today so be sure to tidy up a bit for her, won’t you?” Bristol tucked a stand of hair behind her ear. “Of course, mother.” Of course I’ll tidy up for the maid. She hopped down from the bar stool and planted a soft kiss upon her mother’s kiss. “I’ll see you at dinner tonight.” She smiled.

“Yes, very well,” Mrs. Fontaine shrugged her Chanel purse onto her shoulder. “I’ll see you tonight. And Bristol?” she called after the retreating hazel-haired, thin-framed damsel. Bristol stopped in her tracks, peered over her shoulder curiously. “Whatever happens at the trial today… it’s for the best.” And with that Mrs. Fontaine turned and her heels clicked out into the garage. “Yes, of course,” Bristol mumbled low and under her breath. “It’s for the best.” Slowly, like her steps were weighed down by iron balls, Bristol climbed the steps up to her bedroom to dress for the occasion.

Nearly an hour later and with an adequate amount of time to spare, Bristol emerged from her shining, silver Porsche in front of the grand palace of her boyfriend’s condemnation. Ex-boyfriend’s. If she intended to sell any information of value to the jury, she needed to keep her facts straight. As of the present date, she and Jagger were not romantically linked, for she had regrettably dissolved those relations days prior. Understandably a storm raged in her mind and in her gut, yet she refused to show any intimation of discomfort around the company she would soon meet. Though Jagger’s business concerned hard drugs, he had never maliciously dealt substance to anyone. He happened to be one of the few dealers out there that watched his own hide but also gave a damn about his clients. Bristol would spit in the face of any bastard who tried to discredit his authenticity by excusing his hospitality for “securing customer loyalty.” Fuck proper mannerisms.

Up the marble steps, Bristol’s soft curls bounced with every step. Her outfit demonstrated the perfect composure expected of the only Fontaine child, despite the turmoil that monopolized her inner monologues. Her thoughts questioned Jagger’s whereabouts but not for long. She stumbled upon a rare sight to see, the image of Jagger Roitfeld and his father wrapped in each other’s arms. An involuntary smile spread from her lips as she watched them, undetected for the moment. Of course, her anonymity sparsely triumphed for long. The Fontaine name always reaped recognition in one form or another, and Mr. Roitfeld was the first to administer her just that. With a subtle nod in her direction, Jagger too invested his attention on her. Before she could speak, he had crossed the marble floor with long, sweeping strides and gathered her thin frame in his arms. His smooth, velvet voice snaked into her ear and paralyzed her. “Jagger,” she breathed, right into his chest. Her nasal cavity filled with the scent of him, a scent that was slowly seeping from the throw pillows on her bed. For a moment, she pulled back enough to look him in the eyes. An overwhelming desire struck her, demanded that she press her lips to his, but she refrained. “I wish I didn’t have to be,” she whispered. “But here I am.”

© avey
PM
^
JAGGER ROITFELD
 Posted: Oct 3 2014, 11:43 AM
Quote
ABBS is currently Offline
20
years old
student/drug dealer
heterosexual
In a Relationship
20 posts
I'll be your light, your match, your burning sun, I'll be the bright, in black that's makin' you run. And we'll feel alright, and we'll feel alright, 'Cause we'll work it out, yeah we'll work it out. I'll be doin' this, if you had a doubt, 'Til the love runs out, 'til the love runs out.
college student





their verdict's in, my choice is you



the courtrooms expansive marble covered interior seemed to swallow them up. wrapped around each other, her cheek pressed to his chest, his resting against the top of her head. her scent wafted in gentle tendrils around his mind. she smelled classically like expensive perfume, fruits, and lightly like coffee. it was a drug of choice, and as she pulled away to look up at him, he realized how true that was. his heart slammed eagerly against his rib cage. he hoped that she didn't sense how incredibly nervous he was, considering how out of character it was in the first place. he could stare someone straight in the eyes while they held a gun to his chest, and refuse to give them what they wanted. no sense of nerves or even the slightest shake of his fingers. he could deal with some of the most dangerous and powerful men in the drug cartel, knowing that they would drive a bullet in one ear and out the other faster than he could think, without a second thought. but the pure thought of signing his life away, the life he'd built for himself, by himself, for the promise of the same four walls and homoerotic encounters was a little too much to handle and keep a straight face. his lip wobbled slightly, he felt the back of his eyes warm and hot. i wish i didn't have to be. he sighed, cupping her face in his hands, attempting an apologetic smile. "god bri, i wish you didn't have to be either." he promised he'd keep her safe. he knew that by dragging himself into this, he was taking her too. kicking and screaming no doubt. she always had the right to leave, kiss his ass goodbye and never look back. but she didn't. it gave him hope that he loved her for all the right reasons. and when you're in love, nothing makes sense. including bringing along your girlfriend when dealing with cracked-out meth heads, promising that when she was with him, she was safe. it was a bold-faced lie, but he would like to believe that she convinced herself it was true and trusted him enough regardless. jagger knew the familiar cold press of a revolver tucked in the back of his belt. he knew the cool reassurance of the butterfly knife in his inner coat pocket. whether she knew it, he could only hope she remained oblivious to the lengths he would be willing to go to protect her. more than himself. for her. there was an element of risk in everything he did these days, but at least she was stable. she was the one thing that no matter what happened, who happened, she would be there just the same. from the nights he'd come home high as a kite and find her perched in the middle of his bed, making sure he returned safely. and when he shook from overdose at the beginning of their relationship, promising that he'd never try molly again, she was the one stroking his hair out of his eyes and kissing his burning cheeks. she was just there. he didn't have anyone else like her, nor did he want to. she was all he needed, especially now.

calmly and gently, jagger leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. not deeply or passionately as he was accustomed to kissing her, but he needed to know she was there. for now. there was a nagging part of his consciousness that thought it would be the last time. he last time he kissed her, hugged her, told her how much he was irrevocably in love with her, and held her close to his heart. he refused to acknowledge it fully, refusing to bring it to be the truth. the way his green eyes searched hers with some sort of false hope, as if he'd find the strength and answers he needed within hers. like he was grasping for something, anything, to hold onto. he'd walk through those heavy wooden doors that loomed behind them, face all of his family and friends, and the jury would see what mistake they made. they'd understand. looking at this awkward, lanky, mop-haired teenager, they couldn't see a criminal. they'd see their sons, brothers, nephews. and they'd pity him, maybe they'd believe his innocent plea after all. but jagger knew that beside the countless people that were rooting for him to come out of this, was a whole other side that was against him. they wanted to see him suffer, at the hands of their daughters, sons, brothers, and sisters, all touched in some way by the drugs they had brainwashed themselves into believing jagger sold to them. he wanted to badly to reach out and shake each one of them by the shoulders. do you know how many drug dealers there are in manhattan? never mind new york state? that's what he'd say. he'd drive it home in their hearts that he too wanted the best for them, and that he was personally sorry that something so horrid took those lives away from them. but it wasn't his fault. and maybe he'd done his fair share of brainwashing. but it worked, didn't it. "we'll get through this." he said softly, brushing her cheek with his thumb. the tingle that remained on the pad of his thumb was even more evidence that he couldn't do this without her. he remembered seeing her stretching her hand up in class, the first day of ninth grade. her delicate fingers wiggling slightly, an expensive bracelet dangling on her impossibly small wrist. his eyes found her, just like every other guy in the room's. he wanted her, from then on it was the only thought that consumed him. she made him work, that was for sure. but he wasn't going to giev up, and the day he kissed her, he had won. he pumped a fist in the air as he got back in his room and fell asleep with a smile on his face, knowing that for once he had someone on his side. and there she would stay for the next four years. sure, they had their fights, but it didn't lessen his feelings towards her. there was no one else on earth he'd rather have here with him, in any circumstance, even if they were stuck with this one.

his father stood behind them still, slightly closer to the doors, and cleared his throat. jagger's eyes broke from bri's, letting his hands fall back to his sides. he twisted his head to follow where the sound had echoed from, and saw his father nod his head. he held up a hand, fingers splayed, meaning "five" more minutes until they had to go in. when jagger's face returned to look at bri's, his eyes were full of imminent fear, anxiety, and stress. he wasn't ready, but how could you ever be? his fingers toyed at the ends of hers, hooking slightly to hang off the ends in a weak attempt to keep some sort of contact between the two of them. if it was going to be the last time he ever saw her, he wouldn't let it go to waste. he pressed his lips against her neck, letting his breath flow across her shoulder and collarbone. smiling slightly, he reached his opposite hand to press against the small of her back firmly holding her to him. "this isn't goodbye." his voice floated, thick with the rich accent of the new york area. he felt anxious, needing her, wanting her. as if it was his last dying wish, to be with her again. he pulled away slowly, placing featherlight kisses up her neck and jaw until he reached her earlobe. his eyes searched hers with more of a passionate intensity, as a moment of silence passed between them and seemed to reverberate off the walls of the expansive hall around them. "i love you." his voice caught in his throat minutely, he cleared it gently. dipping his chin, almost as if remembering how much it should embarrass him to say such bold statements aloud, in front of a girl who, at one time, scared the shit out of him. "i know i'm not supposed to say that, because we're supposed to be "separated". but i do." he shook his head, mostly at himself. he couldn't believe the words coming out of his mouth, or how he'd immediately contradicted yet another statement he was going to agree to in court. they were supposed to be broken up, or so she'd stated for the record. but today he'd hear it coming from her own mouth, and it'd drive a stake through his heart again today like it did every time the realization hit him. she said it for the court, not for them. if it was up to her, and him, he was sure they'd be together. possibly forever, but that was too much to believe at this point.

BRI/CHAR


p.s. I LOVE YOU TILL THE END OF TIME
PMEmailWebsiteGTalkAIMYIMMSN
^
BRISTOL FONTAINE
 Posted: Oct 3 2014, 06:23 PM
Quote
CHAR is currently Offline
19
years old
unemployed
heterosexual
It's Complicated
8 posts
coming soon
tourist


it's one step forward and two in reverse
In the Fontaine bloodline, self-preservation was a priority, and that inherited characteristic—among others—had not skipped Bristol’s generation. A number of weeks ago Bristol finally came face-to-face with the dangers that Jagger devoted his life to protecting her from. A dark, hooded figure emerged from the shadows of a passing alley and pulled her into the darkness. Arms and legs flying in every direction possible, screams deafening but muted by a gloved hand, Bristol’s captor shoved her into the darkness with him. At that point Bristol hadn’t known whether to fear her life, her innocence, or both. She had seen enough Criminal Minds to know that predators played with their prey before deciding their fate, like cats and unsuspecting mice. Once she had served her purpose she would no longer be of any interest to her captor, and that one meant one outcome—an outcome she didn’t intend to happen without a fight. If she was meant to go down at the hands of a scummy drug addict, then she sure as hell was going to go down guns blazing, blood and fire. Except… that wasn’t what the man wanted at all.

A passing taxi cab penetrated the darkness enough for Bristol to catch a glimpse of her captor’s face, and she soon realized that she had seen the lanky man before. Recently. There were occasions, though rare, when Jagger mixed his private life with business, and only a week prior Jag had taken her to meet with the same man. Of course, she watched from a distance, but his sunken facial features and beady, piercing gray eyes were hard to forget. In a moment of courage, she had bit down upon the leathery hand obstructing her shouts and kneed her attacker in the crotch. Then she kicked off her heels and ran like hell down the solitary street until she could mingle into the crowds. The man didn’t follow her—Bristol assumed he had pocketed her expensive heels to exchange for drug money. Despite that particular pair being one of her favorites, she decided to prioritize her life. By no means did she ever wish to see her name printed in the bright, red ink of a “Missing” poster one day, and especially not at the hands of a lifeless scum like him. And that was essentially what opened her eyes and gave her clarity.

That night and a handful of nights following the incident Bristol had debated telling Jagger the truth. She knew without his questioning that he could detect a change in demeanor, but every time she nearly broke down and told him the fear that she felt during the ordeal sparked back to life. Besides, nothing of that nature had occurred before. Who knows what her telling the truth could unleash in Jagger? Without a doubt he would’ve hunted her attacker down and killed him. Murder was a felony less forgivable than drug trafficking, Bri assumed. And so she would take her secret to the grave. Jagger need not know because he was no longer responsible for her. Problem solved… until it wasn’t. Somehow Jagger still managed to get caught and now both of them were taking the fall as a result. As Jagger’s hands cupped her face, she could only shake her head and fight back frustrated tears. “Why? How? I don’t understand.” She stared into his face. “You’ve always been so careful to cover your tracks… what changed? Jag…”

But before Bri had the opportunity to finish her statement, she found her lips pressed against Jagger’s and her mind wiped clear of any argument she had prepared. Fuck, why did he have to do that? Why then? The kiss barely qualified as a peck, but it was all Bristol needed for the walls she had built to come crashing down. Fuck, her only defense mechanism had been distance. Not calling him, not messaging him, not seeing him, not touching him. His unanticipated (but wholly welcomed) advancement thwarted… everything, and the more intimate he dared to be, the more dazed Bristol became. Her nervous system had finally come alive, electric. Each kiss he placed upon her skin sent burning jolts of desire rushing through her. When he promised that they (as one) would get through this obstacle, she almost believed him, and even though her rationality wanted to step in, his kisses paralyzed her.

Mr. Roitfeld clearing his throat brought her back down to Earth, and mirroring Jagger, she turned her attention to the man that helped create the love of her life eighteen years ago. Five minutes, he motioned. Five minutes. Shit. Upon turning around, Jagger’s complexion had transformed. His face now seemed bereft of warmth, so she ran a hand through his mop of curls—a motion she often resorted to in times of uncertainty. He held onto the ends of her fingertips, but she was too scared out of her wits to reciprocate or accept the physical contact. No! No! No! This couldn’t be… Jagger was far too careful to get caught. Someone had to be behind this… could it have been her attacker? She averted her gaze from his deep green eyes, tilted her head away as he affirmed their love. They were separated. She was about to go into the courtroom and testify to a most likely bias jury that she had loved (past tense) Jagger Roitfeld, seen a side of him no one else had the privilege to know. “Jag… you know I can’t… you know what I have to say in there, and…” Tears were already starting to break from her eye sockets and she forced them away with a swipe of her hand. “It’s for the best,” she said, all the while hearing the echo of her mother’s voice.

© avey

PM
^
JAGGER ROITFELD
 Posted: Oct 6 2014, 05:51 PM
Quote
ABBS is currently Offline
20
years old
student/drug dealer
heterosexual
In a Relationship
20 posts
I'll be your light, your match, your burning sun, I'll be the bright, in black that's makin' you run. And we'll feel alright, and we'll feel alright, 'Cause we'll work it out, yeah we'll work it out. I'll be doin' this, if you had a doubt, 'Til the love runs out, 'til the love runs out.
college student





their verdict's in, my choice is you



if he had any say in the matter, he'd never let her out of his sight. it was almost a life goal to be around bri and make sure she was safe. to make sure nothing, or no one, bad ever happened to her. and he knew that with his current "profession", that was easier said than done. he was careful, methodical, and ever so private to make sure that she never came into contact with any of the drugs or the people that wanted them. but there was bound to be a slip up sometime. he'd done everything he could. he covered his tracks, swept up after himself, never made a bad name or a wrong step anywhere. just looking at him, for sure, you wouldn't have any idea what he was really doing behind the scenes. but that was the point. he dressed well, kept his look clean cut, and it definitely helped that he was dating one of the most pretentious, goody-goody, rich girls in school. if not the most above everyone else. sure her parents never liked him much, or so he knew by the way they looked down their noses at him. he had just as wealthy and prestigious a lineage as she did, for all they knew he would be an apprentice lawyer at his father's firm in a matter of years and have an in to take over the company by the time he was 24. but that was the point, the whole illusion. they didn't know, and that's how he was going to keep it. she was enough of a handful for the both of them it seemed, and when jagger came around not dressed in his gucci suit and leather loafers, he wasn't invited as warmly in as he'd like to have been. it was all about the image. even with his own parents, although they got everything they wanted and more with bristol. his mother would never keep her mouth shut around her about what a pretty girl she was, how nicely she dressed, how eloquently she spoke, and her impeccable manners. and jagger agreed, that's why he was so god damned happy when she had agreed to go out with him. of all people? him. his father had said the exact same thing when jagger told them way back in ninth grade that he was going steady with bristol fontaine. he never complained, he agreed that when it came to the female species, bristol was the cream of the crop.

she turned her head away from his hands, his stomach dropping slightly. his brow furrowed, eyes desperate, he tried to catch her gaze again. his eyes searched hers for a sliver of understanding, knowing he'd come up empty handed for sure. she didn't know anything better than he did. this was just a foreign of an idea and situation as either of them could have ever imagined they'd be in. and if he was going to be in it, he would have kept her as far away as possible. he'd begged his lawyer to make an exception, to ask them not to ask her to testify. she didn't need to see this. she didn't need to see him sign his life away, and stare across the courtroom into her eyes as he walked out those doors and into a transfer vehicle with cuffs on to the airport. she didn't need to see them cuff him in front of the entire audience, hear his mother sob uncontrollably, see his father cry. but she was going to. and they said they needed her to as his closest confidant, especially their relationship being a juicy detail to add against his favour. he was sure that if it was up to her parents to testify, they'd make sure the jury never let him be within a 100 mile radius ever again. he was the biggest concern towards her health, but little did they know that some days she was all that kept him going. jagger frowned, fighting back a wobble in his voice. "i don't know, babe. i really don't. i tried to be careful, but i guess, it wasn't good enough." he felt the energy being sapped from his body, like every movement of his fingers was a struggle, even to breathe felt laboured. he didn't want to go in there, and stretching his gaze from her eyes to the doors glimmering in the late morning sunlight behind them made his feet itch. they could run. she wouldn't, and he couldn't. but they could in theory, get in his car and just keep driving. they'd never find him, no one would. and they'd be safe for once. he wouldn't have to deal anymore, his parents gifted credit cards would work for a few months before they could cancel them, and if that didn't happen he had more than enough money than he knew what to do with. he pictured himself taking her hand, kissing her hard, and walking right out those doors. past the reporters that gathered with their shadows and big cameras and microphones. and never look back. someone would get a picture of them together at last and it'd be splashed across the front page of the times as the last time they ever saw jagger roitfeld, innocent.

she was shaking her head, resisting his touch, turning away, saying she couldn't do this. his heart was in an iron grip, he struggled to draw in a ragged breath. his eyes watered, feeling them hot and stinging against the effort to keep them from spilling over. he felt his breathing quicken. even though she was right, he refused to believe that this was somehow for the best. she knew he loved her, and she had to love him back. regardless of what she was going to say in there, telling them what may or may not be the truth, she had to believe that they were what was best. how could something so good, so young, and so true be wrong? they'd been together since before puberty for god sakes, he had her virginity and she had his. they'd been in a rocky, but committed relationship for almost five years and this wasn't what was right? impossible. he shook his head, dropping his hands to his sides, and then flinging them in a wide circle as he turned and stepped away from her. aggressively tossing them in the air. "no! that's bullshit, bri! and you know it!" his voice boomed through the empty spaces above their head, and he looked up only briefly, he too surprised by the effect it had. the ringing in his ears diminished only slightly as he took a more calm step back towards her, still keeping a safe distance. his heart beat in his throat, he felt the tears coming. "everyone keeps telling us that we're meant to be apart, that i'm not good for you. and maybe they're right but i don't care!" he shook his head, feeling the hot tears pooling and blurring his vision in front of liquid green eyes. "i love you. and why isn't that enough?" his voice was barely above an airy whisper. using his hands in a typical new yorker fashion to express his lack of understanding. shaking them in front of him, fingers splayed. "and i'm scared. i'm scared to lose you." he felt the hot tears boil over the edges of his eyelashes, running in streaks down his face quickly. he fought back the urge to dissolve into a puddle of frustrated tears and anger at his current situation. he needed her, and this being the only time that he couldn't have her.

BRI/CHAR


p.s. I LOVE YOU TILL THE END OF TIME
PMEmailWebsiteGTalkAIMYIMMSN
^
1 User(s) are reading this topic (1 Guests and 0 Anonymous Users)
0 Members:

Topic Options
Add Reply
New Topic


 


 


skinned exclusively for repent & repeat by lauz.