since she represented almost everything he abhorred. She was rich, more than likely didn’t earn it herself, and had a sense of entitlement. He could tell by how high she held her chin, her chastising tone speaking down to him as if he were some damn child. He hated her arrogance…or perhaps it was simple confidence? At the end of the day it didn’t matter; it all smelled the same at that moment. She stood there as if she were doing him a favor by allowing him to collect and discard her rubbish. She was the damn enemy, his muse, the source of countless internal jokes he kept bottled within and the reason he stroked his cock that morning. That woman became his new crave, and his painful past recreated.
These were all the things Sean rallied against. He beat his hard chest like a drum in the face of such nuisances and absurdities. Regardless, he had a new lease on the notion, and decided to push his manufactured concerns aside, take a chance on the shit. Upon a sharp inhale, he turned his music down, causing the last sounds of Action Bronson’s, ‘Strictly for my Jeeps’ to hush to a low roar.
“Yo, Roy! I need to leave a note…hold up!” he yelled into the man’s side mirror, waving his dirty, yellow gloved hand wildly before hearing one of his favorite tunes begin, the song, ‘Electric Feel’ by MGMT.
Roy caught his eye, nodded and waited.
Sean whipped out the work stationery from the baggy side pocket of the gray jumpsuit he’d thrown on due to yet another threat of rain. He removed a half dead pen that promised to let him down in his time of need. Bending low, he began to write, using the lady’s trashcan lid as his makeshift desk.
My name is Sean and I’m the trash guy you cursed out last month and accidentally showed your nice assets to. Here is my number. Call me. I think you are gorgeous, and not just because I saw you in your underwear. If I’d seen you in a potato sack, I’d feel the same way. I want to take you out.
212-675-0804
He slapped the note on the damn thing and hopped on the back of the truck, a huge grin on his face.
She’ll call…how could she not? I’m Sean Mahoney, the one and only, baby!
*
“Mom, are you sure?” Asia ran her slender fingers through her thick curls and winced at her reflection in the silver and pink heart-shaped vanity mirror adorned with faux diamonds. She turned back and forth, sizing herself up and acting slightly dramatic.
“Of course I am,” From her seat on the edge of her daughter’s plush canopy bed, the purple skull printed comforter bunching under her jeans, Treasure smiled proudly at her. “I’m telling you, that’s the headband you want to wear for your audition.” She nodded and pointed at her approvingly. “It gives just enough flash, lets the audience see your face well, and it accentuates your features…You’re so pretty.”
Asia smiled, checking herself out from various angles, savoring her mother’s compliment. Then her grin quickly faded and she shot her mother a glance from over her slightly slumped shoulder.
“Of course you’d say that, Mom. You’re biased.” She looked briefly down into her lap. “Will you do my make up for it?’
“Of course I will! Honey, you’re going to do great.”
“She’ll look like a hooker.” Brian snorted as he made his way inside of his little sister’s room, dragging his negativity with him like a second skin wrapped around his long, youthful bones.
“I will not,” Asia angrily yelled out. “You are such a loser sometimes, Brian!”
“And you’re such an idiot, all the time, Asia!” He laughed, shooting his sibling a lazy glance, messing with her, delighting in her annoyance.
“Brian, be quiet and leave Asia alone. Don’t you call her an idiot again. You know better than that.”
“She called me a loser!” His brows bunched, he pointed at Asia but kept his eyes glued to Treasure’s. A look of manufactured, cheaply made sorrow danced in his pupils, created to elicit
These were all the things Sean rallied against. He beat his hard chest like a drum in the face of such nuisances and absurdities. Regardless, he had a new lease on the notion, and decided to push his manufactured concerns aside, take a chance on the shit. Upon a sharp inhale, he turned his music down, causing the last sounds of Action Bronson’s, ‘Strictly for my Jeeps’ to hush to a low roar.
“Yo, Roy! I need to leave a note…hold up!” he yelled into the man’s side mirror, waving his dirty, yellow gloved hand wildly before hearing one of his favorite tunes begin, the song, ‘Electric Feel’ by MGMT.
Roy caught his eye, nodded and waited.
Sean whipped out the work stationery from the baggy side pocket of the gray jumpsuit he’d thrown on due to yet another threat of rain. He removed a half dead pen that promised to let him down in his time of need. Bending low, he began to write, using the lady’s trashcan lid as his makeshift desk.
My name is Sean and I’m the trash guy you cursed out last month and accidentally showed your nice assets to. Here is my number. Call me. I think you are gorgeous, and not just because I saw you in your underwear. If I’d seen you in a potato sack, I’d feel the same way. I want to take you out.
212-675-0804
He slapped the note on the damn thing and hopped on the back of the truck, a huge grin on his face.
She’ll call…how could she not? I’m Sean Mahoney, the one and only, baby!
*
“Mom, are you sure?” Asia ran her slender fingers through her thick curls and winced at her reflection in the silver and pink heart-shaped vanity mirror adorned with faux diamonds. She turned back and forth, sizing herself up and acting slightly dramatic.
“Of course I am,” From her seat on the edge of her daughter’s plush canopy bed, the purple skull printed comforter bunching under her jeans, Treasure smiled proudly at her. “I’m telling you, that’s the headband you want to wear for your audition.” She nodded and pointed at her approvingly. “It gives just enough flash, lets the audience see your face well, and it accentuates your features…You’re so pretty.”
Asia smiled, checking herself out from various angles, savoring her mother’s compliment. Then her grin quickly faded and she shot her mother a glance from over her slightly slumped shoulder.
“Of course you’d say that, Mom. You’re biased.” She looked briefly down into her lap. “Will you do my make up for it?’
“Of course I will! Honey, you’re going to do great.”
“She’ll look like a hooker.” Brian snorted as he made his way inside of his little sister’s room, dragging his negativity with him like a second skin wrapped around his long, youthful bones.
“I will not,” Asia angrily yelled out. “You are such a loser sometimes, Brian!”
“And you’re such an idiot, all the time, Asia!” He laughed, shooting his sibling a lazy glance, messing with her, delighting in her annoyance.
“Brian, be quiet and leave Asia alone. Don’t you call her an idiot again. You know better than that.”
“She called me a loser!” His brows bunched, he pointed at Asia but kept his eyes glued to Treasure’s. A look of manufactured, cheaply made sorrow danced in his pupils, created to elicit
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