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His Muse, Her Maker

His Muse, Her Maker

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Dreaming was but a legend until he appeared.

969 readers have visited His Muse, Her Maker since estrelas created it.

Copyright: The creator of this roleplay has attributed some or all of its content to the following sources:

http://asianwiki.com/paradise_kiss

Introduction

.
.
She was a girl without choices.

He was a boy with his own decisions.

She was never allowed to have her own dreams.

He was never stopped from chasing desires.


«dreaming was but a legend until he appeared»


It wasn’t surprising that they’d never met despite going to the same school for three years. She was always busy with her academics – her mother’s obsessive need for her to be the best in her class pushed her almost beyond her limits, but she succeeded none the lest – while he was always either sleeping in the library or stowing away in the back closet of the art room to draw. Her mother’s dreams always got in the way of what she really wanted to do and day by day she found herself living in the world her mother wanted. He never accepted his parent’s limitations on what he could or couldn’t do, allowing himself to whatever he wanted to with his life: in this case, it was to become a designing photographer, one who designed his model’s outfits as well as where and how they’d be modeling.

While he was in school, he was popular with the guys and idolized by the girls (of which he had no objections to mess around with). People accepted his creative ways of thinking, enjoying his designs and incredible genius-like knowledge about life. His dark but charming personality gave him the excuse to go off on his own and work without needing to deal with disruptions. Any girl who he asked to model for him was happy to oblige. Any guy who he asked to help had no desire to disappoint.

Yet unlike him, she was a nobody. She had no friends, nobody who picked her out of the crowd to be special. Those who did notice her rarely took the opportunity to speak a word to her – but there were a few who decided to speak up; they were no joy to be around. Constantly she was mocked, taunted, bullied, and eventually she grew cold. Anyone who had interest in her was a threat; anyone who looked her way was thinking badly of her; anyone who walked past her was inwardly laughing; she believed this way without a second thought.


This year she is a senior and spring is coming close – soon the entire state will be frantically cramming for exams and finals that will determine their placements for college the years after. This year he is a high-school graduate using his parent’s wealth to run a small modeling business hidden in the depths of an alleyway.

Soon these two incredible people will meet, whether by fate or chance, and their lives will be changed in ways they could not have imagined. He would have never found his “perfect woman”, his muse, his girl who fits his modeling purpose. She would have never found herself and the dreams she had so long ago buried deep within herself.

Dreams.
Wishes.
Desires.
Lusts.
Guilts.
Secrets.
Fears.

They shall all be uncovered.
When muse meets maker, it shall all begin.



Obviously this is a 1x1 sort of story.
I’ll be playing the girl so I’ll naturally be looking for someone to play the guy.
This means that reserving is invalid. I’ll choose who I see fit.
I don’t mean to be picky, but I’m looking for someone literate and experienced.
This person should be comfortable with romance (and I mean that) and should contribute ideas.
I’m not creating a character skeleton for this because I want to see your ideas come to life.
Characters should be unique and creative! Have secrets and such that makes them interesting.
Any pictures used should be real, no anime or paintings are accepted.
Also, I plan for this roleplay to last for quite a while, so don’t join if you aren’t here long-term.
Again I stress the romance factor. If you aren’t comfortable with it, this isn’t for you.
Posting will be required as often as possible and posts should be fairly lengthy but not a novel.
Overall, I want someone who is going to have fun with this!
So show me what you’ve got :3

Toggle Rules

The GM of this roleplay hasn't created any rules! You can do whatever you like!

The Story So Far... Write a Post » as written by 2 authors

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He stood there, fuming as she spoke. Only a flicker of surprise would cross his face as she presented him a drawing that (damnit!) he had missed upon gathering them all up. The fury bubbled around his throat the more she talked and he felt like he would explode, rip something up and throw it across the room. Break the door window! Something! Who was she to give orders?! He was the boss here, not her! And she obviously knew nothing about professionalism; just look at what she wore for the first job! She... His anger snapped and vanished as he realized how like his father he sounded. Running his fingers through his wet hair, he tossed the pile of drawings on the far side of the couch and turned to face her.

"Please," he sighed. "Don't call me sir. That's my father," He sat down on the couch opposite of her and met her gaze. "I apologize for many things, Adriella. First: I thought that hiring you would be more like working with a friend than having to be business professional. I hate that environment. Loathe it, really." He paused, trying to think of the right words. "If a friendly environment makes you uncomfortable then perhaps we're not a good fit to work together. That said, I did cross a line by using you as a sketch model without your permission." He gestured to the drawing on the coffee table. "I should have asked permission. Just thought it would come off as creepy." A grimace formed on his face. "Ehh...not as creepy as finding a drawing of yourself at your new workplace, it seems. I'm sorry. I just...get inspired and have to draw sometimes. I promise not to do it again if it offends you. And...your mother. I had no business bringing her up. That was cruel of me." Clearing his throat, he stood up and reached for his wallet in his back pocket of his jeans. "How much do I owe you for today?" He felt defeated after recalling all the things he had done wrong that day. He doubted that she would want to come back and work for him anymore.

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Adriella could see the fury in his eyes, the rage he was struggling to keep inside and as much as she hated to admit it, that scared her. Only a little over a year ago her father's eyes had the same expression right before he snapped, right before his silence turned to abuse. She had been right - it was the nice people you had to look out for, because though they often put on a smiling face and put up with the behavior of those around them, when they finally snapped that was it. The gentle, charming young man she'd once considered Chris to disappear and one of a dark, handsome power took over, one she wasn't sure how to deal with. She'd never fought back against her father, but ever since his death she had convinced herself that anyone who attempted to fight her would be fought right back and now it was coming back to bite her. Fight... him?

She blinked as his body angry language suddenly diminished. When their contrasting gazes met, the redhead forced herself to keep her eyes locked with his, though inside she wanted look anywhere else but there. Silently she listened to him as he apologized. He was... apologizing? Adriella struggled to understand why he was apologizing even though his confessions did seem a to be legit. Her throat clenched at the mention of her mom.

"Yeah, it was cruel," she agreed coldly, quietly. Finally she dropped her amber eyes from his, allowing herself to appear to have more interest in her shoes than anything else. His second question made her think. As much as she didn't want to work for him, the money would help as it was quite the surprising amount. Twenty dollars an hour was not a bad promise. She cleared her throat loudly and distractedly looked around the room. "I'm not done for today," she said. "Obviously there is a lot more work to do and I've only been here for around forty minutes. You can pay me later."

Lapsing into an awkward silence, Adriella stood, pulled her hair out of her bun, slipped the tie around her wrist, and continued on towards the part of the studio she had yet to work on. She didn't want to look at him let alone talk to him, but the money was going to a good cause so she'd put up with him for now.

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He watched her go with a sad smile, replacing the wallet to his back pocket. He wasn't sure what she thought of him now...or maybe she never thought much of him in the first place. And...why did he seem to care? So many women had come and gone from his life and studio, none really making an impression on him. They were never so rude to him, either. A small voice in the back of his mind demanded an apology from her but, as he began to gather the sketches tossed around the couch, he grew more and more sure that he wasn't going to get it. The stupid drawing that started the whole fiasco glared at him from the top of the papers in his had. Had she lied about liking it to make him feel better? He looked up briefly at where Adriella was working before returning his gaze down at the sketch. A frown crossed his handsome face.

The front door swung open then and a short and busty woman entered carrying an armful of bags. Chris looked up from the drawing and grinned widely, tossing the papers back onto the couch. "Wendy!" he greeted while he hurried over and relieved her of some of the bags. The woman looked grateful and leaned forward to kiss both of Chris' cheeks in greeting.

"Hello, Chris! I had to come by the studio today to show you some things." Chris smiled warmly and led her to the studio table to set the bags down. She was a very pretty girl, about mid-twenties and hipster in the way she dressed. Her brown hair had strands of blonde, blue and purple dyed down the pixie short haircut. Tights hugged her legs underneath the short red sundress which was accessorized by a wide black belt along the waist. She was plump and curvacious, only the slightest bit of overweight. Once the bags were out from her arms she pulled Chris to her for a warm hug.

"I missed you," he said sincerely as they pulled apart from the hug. The weight of the earlier argument fell of his shoulders as Wendy smiled back at him.

"Yeah yeah. I know how much you need me," she giggled, slapping him playfully on the shoulder. "I expected to have to drag you out of bed but here you are! Up AND dressed before 2! What miracle brought this about?" Chris shot a glance over in the direction of Adriella before meeting Wendy's gaze. Wendy looked over to where he had glanced, eyes widening. She mouthed the next sentence: "who is she?" while twitching her head toward Adriella. Chris cleared his throat.

"Wendy, I would like for you to meet Adriella- my new assistant." He placed a hand on Wendy's back and led her over to Adriella. "Adriella, this is Wendy. She's my seamstress."

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Adriella took her time sorting out the papers in this new section of the studio. Most of the papers had sketches of dresses and summerwear and all were absolutely charming. She carefully placed each design in organized stacks, carful not to crinkle them or fold the corners in the process. It seemed to her that Chris had so much talent and yet it was going no-where. Why didn't she ever hear about his clothing before? Aside from some fairly bland rumors around her highschool about an ex-student becoming a clothing designer and photographer, out in the big world she hadn't heard a wink about him. Was he new to the business? Obviously not, she could tell that by the dates on the designs and pictures of models. So why exactly wasn't he getting anywhere?

The sound of the door slamming open jarred the redhead. She briefly glanced over her shoulder to examine the visitor: a short, plump woman with an interesting choice in haircolor. Despite her size, Adriella was charmed by her facial features. The woman wasn't at all ugly - actually, in a way, she had a cuteness about her that she'd never seen anywhere before. She watched the woman with interest until Chris hugged her. Her attention once more snapped back to the work before her. That hug. Why did it bother her? Was she envious of the relationship between those two? Chewing her bottom lip, she moved back to work, though she kept one ear out to the conversation behind her.

Suddenly there was an abrupt pause in their conversation. She was about to turn around when she heard Chris say, "Wendy, I would like for you to meet Adriella- my new assistant." From the sound of their footsteps, they were heading in her direction. "Adriella, this is Wendy. She's my seamstress."

Chills running up her arms, Adriella stood, patted off the dust from her hands on her shorts, and turned to fully face the two. She cast her amber gaze to meet Wendy's eyes in order to keep herself from looking at Chris. "Hello," she said with a polite incline of the head. A professionally crafted fake smile brightened her features. "It's nice to meet you," she added and brushed a strand of red hair from her face.

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Wendy did not try to hide the scrutiny in her gaze as she looked the girl over from head to toe, then up to the newly organized shelves. Slowly, a satisfied smile replaced her judging features.

"Finally," she said. "It was getting to the point where I was afraid I would never find my way out with this mess. Glad to see you're not just another pretty face." She held out a hand to the assistant to shake.

Chris was not paying attention to the two women as he was deep in thought, gently looking over the items in the bags Wendy had brought in. Most of the completed pieces were just simple outfits that he sold to the local shops to keep himself afloat. He bypassed those quickly and dove into the next bag. This one contained different fabrics that he had discussed with Wendy for some prom dress designs. He remembered her saying that she knew of a place that sold satin with unique hand-embroidered patterns. She must have brought some over to show him an example and he lifted it out of the bag to see how it looked in the sun. The fabric shimmered a dark blue, sometimes purple depending on how the light played across the surface. Tiny twinkling silver embroidered stars scattered around the surface caught the light and almost looked like small sequins. After all the fabric he had seen, the amount of detail and intricacy amazed him. It was defiantly worth a trip to that shop later to see what else they had. He always tried to support local businesses and craftsmen, being one himself. It went against everything his father told him about moving up and impressing those who matter but Chris enjoyed the small artisan community and thought the mash-up of different minds in his designs made them unique. Setting the satin down, he spotted a hatbox in one of the bags and grinned excitedly.

"Wendy, is this...?" He trailed off, pulling the hatbox out of the bag and opening it hurriedly. "Oh yes! It is!" He pulled out a slightly ridiculous looking hat. It looked along the style of a fedora though the brim was much wider than usual. The brim bent down in one direction and only the slightest bit up the opposite side. But what shouted out strange were the colors. Sharp angles of bright red strategically slashed over the black felt on the brim and pinched-front crown. He had worried, when designing it, that the colors and angles would look strange and hastily put together. This exceeded his expectations and he was excited to see if Wendy had finished the cloak that went with it. Setting the hat on his head (fitting perfectly), he reached under the hatbox and pulled out the dark length of material underneath. It folded out into a floor-length cloak, black satin on the outside and red velvet on the inside. Perfect! He couldn't help but fling it over his shoulders and begin clipping it together. One shoulder piece folded over the other and was held in place with a pen (and a couple hidden buttons.) He felt like a super hero...or super villain. Whichever it was, he was glad that it turned out better than expected.

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Adriella blinked as the woman openly scrutinized her. Part of her was offended by the woman, but she would have probably done the same thing in this situation. After all, this woman, Wendy, was deciding whether she was worthy to work for her friend. In any matter, she lifted her chin higher and gazed back with equal intensity, attempting to appear unmoved by Wendy's behavior.

"Finally," Wendy said. "It was getting to the point where I was afraid I would never find my way out with this mess. Glad to see you're not just another pretty face."

The redhead's amber gaze flickered down to the extended hand. For a moment she was bent on refusing to take it, but politeness would have to do for now. She shook Wendy's hand firmly but gently, so to show that though she wasn't weak like any other girl who seemed to walk into this studio. "Thank you," she replied with another expertly crafted smile. "It's nice to see my boss has a lovely woman for a friend."

Whether or not the word 'friend' was the correct word to use in the situation, Adriella didn't exactly care. After shaking the woman's hand, her hand fell limply to her side and she turned back to organizing. She didn't care about the two behind her, though she was still itching to understand what exactly their relationship was. Old friends? Colleagues? Though she was sure that there hadn't or wasn't any romantic involvement between the two, she wasn't about to rule that out. You never knew, especially since Chris seemed to be exceptionally popular with the ladies - and she couldn't exactly blame girls for falling for him as he did have a certain charm that even she couldn't ignore.

Speaking of the devil, Chris and Wendy seemed fairly interested in a hatbox that had been carried in along with the bags. Adriella struggled to keep a straight face when she looked over her shoulder to see what all the noise was about. The hat was by far one of the most... unique pieces of clothing she'd seen in quite a long time. She quickly turned back to her work, a hand over her mouth to keep in her giggles.

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Wendy noticed the hesitation to shake her hand and grew suspicious, though equally as expertly keeping a smile on her face. Was she only an assistant? She seemed to be nice though Wendy had seen other girls in the studio grow jealous of her before. At any rate, she figured it was not worth it to say anything to the girl or Chris. Things had their way of working themselves to the surface. "Thank you," was her reply to the complement (or did she detect the hint of spite?) and turned to see Chris pulling on the cloak. She giggled openly, approaching and helping him figure out the buttons. "You look ridiculous," she chuckled.

Unshaken, Chis sported a pose, fists on his hips and chest puffed out. "Who is this Chris you speak of? I am...Captain Fashion!" Wendy folded her arms and raised an eyebrow.

"Uh huh," she said. "And I suppose you dare to go where no fashion police has ever been?" Chris grinned and lowered the pose while Wendy went to help undo the cloak. "Seriously, do you think your father will wear it?" Frowning, Chris took off the hat.

"He wears the same stupid thing every year for the firm's masquerade: a business suit and eye mask." Chris shrugged the cloak off his shoulders and began to carefully fold it. "Maybe if he sees this he would be willing to try it out."

"Mmhmm," Wendy hummed doubtfully, watching him move. "Speaking of which; how's your mother doing? It's been ages since I've seen her." Chris set the cloak and hat down on the table and began to unpack the rest of the things.

"She's doing well. She asked me about you the other day, you know. Said she missed seeing you." He turned he head to look at Wendy. "You should stop by and see her, if you got the guts to face the Ogre." Wendy grinned at their nickname for his father.

"I'll have to do that. Say, would you care to join my parents and I for dinner tonight? I've got big news. About Jimmy." Chris raised his eyebrows and Wendy grinned devilishly.

"What? Who's Jimmy?" he questioned, abandoning unpacking and turning to face her. Giggling, she made her way to the door.

"7:00 work? And it was a pleasure meeting you, dear." she called out to Adriella, opening the door.

"Wha...yeah. But..." She closed the door, waving first at Adriella if she was looking her way. Chris stood stupidly and stared at the door, a loss for words. After a moment he shook his head, sighing and returning to unpacking. He glanced over to Adriella and would make a frustrated face at her if their eyes met.

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Adriella was half tuned into and half unaware of the conversation the two were having. Something about a masquerade caught her attention, but when the topic quickly dropped she grew uncaring once more. A masquerade seemed fairly exciting, though she was sure it was something for Chris' father's work and not for Chris' job at all. Did they say Ogre? Her eyebrows knit as she attempted to come up with an equivalent for who they were talking about. Still the father? Or was it the mother? Confused and lost, she tuned herself back into their words, trying to grasp more of what they were talking about.

"I'll have to do that. Say, would you care to join my parents and I for dinner tonight? I've got big news. About Jimmy," Wendy was saying.

Dinner? At first the woman's words made Adriella a little more suspicious as to the two's relationship, but the mention of someone named Jimmy simmered down her suspicion. Ah, so there was another man in the mix. And by Chris' response, it was clear this Jimmy character was someone Wendy had yet to introduce to her friend. She blinked at Wendy's words, surprised that the woman was talking directly to her. She watched the plump woman leave, a little grin in her amber eyes. Maybe, just maybe, she was growing to like this woman.

Her attention turned to Chris when a silence lapsed over him. Their eyes met and, unsurprisingly, a frustrated mask painted itself across his face. "What's with that look?" she asked accusingly. "Did I do something wrong? Or are you upset that you don't know who Jimmy is?"

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Chris chuckled under his breath at Adriella's accusations, slowly getting used to her attitude. "No, you're doing a fine job," he said, picking up a pile of clothes and putting it back into a bag to be sold to a store. "Sorry that you have to see that family squabble. I love my cousin but sometimes I think she just likes to push my buttons to see what I'll do." He set the bag to the side of the table and began to spread out the different fabric swatches Wendy had brought over the table in a line. He put the embroidered satin in the middle to contrast it with the other samples.

"Since you're going to be my assistant, why don't you take a break and come over here to give me your honest opinion about these samples." He emphasized the word honest and would look up to meet her eyes then to make sure she got the message. "I like getting other opinions about stuff before I put too much effort into designing something. These are for evening gowns." He backed up to scrutinize the samples, chin in his hand as his eyes scanned over the different textiles and patterns. If she protested or refused to come down he would ignore her, too lost in his thoughts to realize her reluctance.

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"No, you're doing a fine job," Chris replied with a chuckle.

"Tch." Adriella finished straightening a stack of papers as he continued to speak. Family? Cousin? She felt better at that mention, though why she'd been so bothered about their relationship, well, bothered her. She'd already come to terms with the slight attraction she had to Chris, but she had no reason to get so worked up about it. Just because he'd been nice to her at their first meeting didn't mean anything. It was highly likely that he wanted something from her - most people seemed to be like that now adays.

Though his next words were in the form of a question, it felt as if there was an implied demand for her to do it. Sighing, the redhead crossed the room and stopped beside him, arms crossed and amber eyes frowning. The fabric samples were definitely nice, some made of silk and others made with warmer, thicker material. "These two are the best," she murmured, more to herself than to him at all. She picked two samples up - a creamy black silk and a greyish blue material that had interesting patterns - and turned them in every which way as if to get the best angle. "Those are nice as well," she continued on in a low voice.

Using her keen eye, she divided the samples into three categories on the table. "Those over there (she pointed to the farthest stack) have nice designs but the colors are a little bland," she said after a pause in thought. "These (again, she pointed) are nice colors but are bland because they are only color. And these (she picked up a few and waved them a little for emphasis) are the best ones."

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Chris watched her work, slowly shifting his attention from the fabrics to the way Adriella moved. She had a kind of natural grace that was rare in most girls her age. He backed off a little to give her free rein over organizing the samples in a way that satisfied her which also gave him a full view of her working. He could see her thinking as she moved the samples around and recognized an intelligence not often seen in the girls that visited the studio. He appreciated the thought and process that she went through to judge the quality of the samples and an idea slowly formed in his head.

"Good, yes," he approved of her judgement, walking back up to the table when she finished. "Those colors definitely are bland," he pointed to one that, at first glance, he really liked but now that he saw it in comparison to the other fabrics he knew that she was right. He moved over to where she had placed the best examples and ran a finger over them. He picked up one and rubbed it between his thumb and fingers. "Now this is the only one I don't agree with. Here, feel it." He held it out to her to touch, if she cared to. "I like to also design things that feel beautiful, too. This fabric is coarse and, if I made a gown out of it, the woman wearing it would not be comfortable. If you're wearing a great evening dress it better not just look elegant, but feel elegant as well." He smiled over at Adriella. "I appreciate your opinion and, for the most part, I think you've got a very good eye for detail." Leaning up against the table, he crossed his arms and faced her directly. "I want you to feel like more than a maid. Would you be interested in learning about designing and photography? It would be nice to have an assistant who can help me during photo shoots and shopping for materials."

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She was satisfied with her decisions until he pointed out one of the fabrics she'd skipped over when feeling their coarseness. She frowned, feeling the fabric when he held it out to her. "You're right," she murmured with a light frown. If there was anything that she hated more than anything, it was being wrong. And to be wrong in this situation irritated her even further. Something about being wrong at that moment made her feel as if her intelligence had dumbed down. She should be at home studying right now, not feeling the coarseness of certain fabric samples.

"I appreciate your opinion and, for the most part, I think you've got a very good eye for detail," Chris said while changing his body position. "I want you to feel like more than a maid. Would you be interested in learning about designing and photography? It would be nice to have an assistant who can help me during photo shoots and shopping for materials."

It was an interesting thing, what he was asking. Adriella studied his face in silence, trying to see exactly what he was thinking. Was he just playing with her, or was be being legit? His smile made it hard for her to read anything other than kindness, but as she'd seen earlier, he was more than meets the eye. As much as she wanted to agree, thoughts of her mom were flashing before her eyes.

"I have time to be an assistant and that's it," the redhead said blankly. "Any more work than that would take away time for me to study." She would have said more, but at that moment the door to the shop opened and a tall man appeared, dark hair and eyes contrasting against his pale skin.

"Ah, Adriella, there you are. Your mom wants me to fetch you," he said, expression indifferent and bored.

She stared back with a frown. Who was this guy, exactly? "Are you my mom's current boyfriend?" she asked, voice tense.

"If you want to call it that, then yes, I'm her boyfriend."

Of course, Adriella being Adriella only paused for a couple of moments before she decided to trust this stranger. There was no warning signal telling her not to go with him, no ability to see whether or not be was someone who could potentially harm her. After all, there were only good people in this world; bad people were really good people who made bad decisions. She turned to Chris and shrugged. "Guess I should get going, then," she said simply and crossed to the couch to collect her bag.

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"I have time to be an assistant and that's it," the redhead said blankly. "Any more work than that would take away time for me to study."

Chris began to nod in reply but whipped his head around to see who had entered the shop. A man he had never seen before stood in the entryway, looking around the shop until his gaze landed on Adriella. Something about his made Chris suspicious and he stood up from the table to face him directly. Something about him gave Chris the creeps

"Ah, Adriella, there you are. Your mom wants me to fetch you," he said, expression indifferent and bored.

Chris looked over at Adriella to gauge her reaction. It surprised him that she did not know who he was and, when she agreed to go along with him, he couldn't help but feel protective of her. What business did her mother have sending a complete stranger to pick up her daughter? While Adriella went to grab her bag he approached the man, putting on his best smile.

"Hello," he began, holding out to shake the man's hand. "I'm Adriella's boss, Chris. I'm glad to see someone cares enough to give her a ride home after work." Chris tried to meet the man's eyes and convey a look that said take care of her...or else.

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The tall man in the doorway met Chris' gaze with stunning coldness. In their cold brown depths lay not emotion, but an uncaring boredom; obviously he had no liking for Adriella, but was doing this errand because he was asked to. He ignored Chris altogether, not even bothering to shake his hand nor seeming to care about the threat that was displayed across his face. "Adriella, your mom said she'd meet us at my house for dinner, so we won't be stopping by your apartment. Is that alright with you?" Despite his words, he clearly didn't care at all if it was alright with her or not.

"Yeah, whatever," the redhead replied. She skipped over to the two, pausing only when noticing the tension between them - or at least, the tension coming from Chris. "Ma said she'd meet us there?" she asked, unsuccessfully reading the man's features.

"Mmm." Nodding coldly to Chris, the man turned out the door and headed towards what appeared to be a limo sitting out on the street.

"Ahh Ma found another rich guy," Adriella groaned while sifting her fingers through her hair. "I wonder what his name is." Her amber gaze turned to Chris. "Tomorrow is Saturday, so I'm going to hang out here. Be on time." Not bothering to say goodbye, she headed after the man.

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Chris nodded at Adriella, still worried about the situation. He had the completely opposite view of the world than her: everyone was capable of doing bad things, given the right situation. The thought of her being alone at that man's house until her mother came (and that was if he was telling the truth) made Chris' blood turn cold. He now wished he had asked for Adriella's cell phone number or even her mother's number. Acting in fear, he ran over to the table and grabbed the bag of clothes before hurrying back to the front door. Quickly locking it, he hurried to follow the pair down the alley to see which car they got into to note the license plate number. If they got suspicious of him following them he would show them the clothes errand he was running. A voice deep down told him that everything was okay, to trust her judgement but worry kept overpowering anything else he might feel.

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The limo was comfortable in a sense that the seats were warm and were plenty soft - that was as far as comfortable got. The atmosphere in the car was tense and strangling. Adriella was sitting across from the man, arms and legs crossed and eyes out the tinted window. She could sense his eyes on her; something about his attention made her feel as defiant as ever. Why did her mom always have to pick up these snotty men? Her mom worked at a sort of Host-club place. It wasn't publicized as a host-club but in the end, that was exactly what it was. Every now and then her mom would come home with a new, rich face and after about a week of dating in which she became bloated on the amount of money she'd squeezed out of them, she'd dump them and move on. Adriella might have felt bad for the guys, but in the end they were just scum who were there for the attention, not the relationship.

"Adriella, have you ever considered modeling?" the man across from her suddenly spoke up. His voice gave her chills, but the question seemed harmless as it was.

"No," the redhead replied stiffly. "I'm focused on my studies. I have no time to do such a thing."

"With your features, you could gain more money than you could if you went to college to go into the medical field," he continued, fairly unconcerned with her answer. "What do you say? Would you like to do some modeling for my company?"

Adriella glanced over at him with a frown. "What part of no do you not understand?"

The rest of the car-ride was silent. After a good ten-minute drive, they pulled up to a large house that sat on a tall hill. She filed out of the car after the nameless man and, bag in tote, followed him into the house. A light rain was beginning to fall at this point, pattering against the roof with a light tip tap tip tap. Adriella carefully removed her shoes and wandered around the front room of the house, amber eyes intrigued by the history of the house. She could hear the man talking with her mom via the telephone in the other room, so her nerves calmed. Trust. As a child she'd never had anyone to teach her who to trust and who not to trust. Never before had someone scared her to the point that she didn't see a reason to trust anyone. It came naturally, as a child, as now.

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Chris memorized the license plate number as the limo drove away, frowning. What could he do next? He began to walk to a nearby clothing shop as he thought of his options. He could call her mother and double check that she had sent him? How many Justice's could there be in New York? It also depended on if they had a land line anymore. It seemed like everyone was switching over to cell phones. Distracted, he accidentally bumped into an old woman carrying her groceries home, making her drop a bag. "Oh, I'm so sorry," Chris said, hurriedly dropping down to help collect the items that had fallen out of the bag. The woman forgave him as he handed the bag back to her, smiling apologetically. She continued on down the road and Chris decided that he had to sit down for a bit to calm down.

Spotting a free apartment stairwell, he went over and eased down to stop and think a bit. He hoped that Adriella was okay, and that the man was, if anything, just a self-absorbed ass. At a loss, he retrieved his cell phone from his pocket and called his mother. He knew that she would be busy at an Amnesty International meeting but he hoped that he could get her opinion about the situation.

"Chris, what's wrong?" she answered the phone, concern in her voice. She knew that Chris rarely called her during the day.

"Mom...please, do you have a moment?" He began to describe the situation with the man coming to pick Adriella up and the cold attitude of the man. His mother listened, interrupting and occasionally shushing someone on her side of the phone. She sighed when he finished.

"Chris, I don't think there's anything you can do at this point. You have the license plate number. You know what the man looks like. If something does happen you will at least be able to help her bring him to justice. Plus, she's a grown woman. She can take care of herself. Sweety," she paused to say something to someone near her before continuing to talk to him. "Just wait until tomorrow. Keep me in touch, okay? Sorry, I have to go. Love you."

"'Kay, mom." Chris hung up the phone and hoped that everything would be just fine. A slight drizzle began to fall and, looking down at the bag of clothes, he decided to try to keep her out of his mind for now.

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As promised, Adriella's mom appeared around ten minutes after they'd arrived at the big house. It was a little early to eat dinner, but the meal was wholesome and tasty all the same. Though it seemed that the two adults sitting at either end of the ridiculously long table seemed to be having quite a good time, the red-haired senior was as bored as bored could be. While they talked over politics and fashion, she picked at her food. She'd only downed about half the dish and it seemed that the more she ate the most sick she felt.

"Say, Adriella," her mom piped up, grasping her attention, "did David mention that he is in the fashion industry? I thought you might be interested. You spend so much time studying that sometimes I wonder how you even know what fashion is."

You're the reason I study all the time, the redhead wanted to say, but instead put on a polite smile. "Yeah, he mentioned it in the car. But I'm not interested. Really."

Her mom seemed a little put off. "Oh? I thought the money could help us out a little bit." In other words, her mom was interested in this man because of the money she could get from her daughter modeling.

"Yeah, I guess," Adriella replied stiffly and returned to poking at her food.

David cleared his throat while setting down his silver-ware. "How about this, Adriella: we're having a photo-shoot tomorrow. You can model for one day and I'll pay you for that. You'll also get money for the pictures that are sold to magazines and other such sources."

"I'm not interested. Really," the redhead repeated, glaring between the two of them. Her mom was crestfallen. Adriella sighed, running a hand through her hair. "You know what, fine. One day. But I have to talk to my boss about it." Upset that she was being used for her mom's greedy nature, she stood abruptly and headed out of the room. Brief chatter and footsteps behind her told her that someone was following, but she could have honestly cared less. She was heading out the door when a hand caught her by the wrist with painful strength.

"Adriella, you should really be kinder to your mom," David scolded while pulling her around to face him. Her wrist burned in his grasp. "She's doing this for you. She asked me to do this so she could put food on the table. Don't you think you should have a little humility?"

The redhead stared back in a mixture of shock and rage. "I don't need some guy like you telling me how to act. You're doing this for your own benefits. Do you think I'm stupid?" There was a pause between her words and his reaction. The slap wasn't all that painful, but it startled her to the point that she staggered backwards and into the rain.

"I am astounded that a girl your age doesn't know how to talk to someone of my status. I expect you to be at the photo-shoot tomorrow, Ms. Justice." With that the door was closed, Adriella standing in the rain with a look of humiliation on her face. Suddenly caught up in anger, she stomped down the sidewalk and down the street, convinced that once she got home she'd do something about Mr. David Longhorn.

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The store offered Chris a bonus for the new shipment of clothes, stating that the previous stuff sold out in a day. The praise and money made him proud, but it still was not the recognition he needed in order to make it big. Making custom clothes for the local shop did not make one famous. Still, he agreed to make more for them as soon as he could, perhaps even remake a couple of the older styles that many people had shown interest in. It was more regular business than the high school, anyways. Maybe he even had a chance to pay back his father if he focused enough.

The rain had grown into a full-out downpour by the time Chris made it back to the studio. Large drops of water fell down his bangs and dripped onto his chest. Nice, he thought solemnly and he began to unbutton his soaked shirt. It was hard for him to not think and worry about Adriella and this weather just seemed to darken his mood. Wadded shirt in hand, he headed up to his bedroom to change into some dry clothes. He still had a couple hours before he had to go to his Aunt and Uncles so he decided to continue Adriella's work and clean. Sporting a pair of old jeans and a white t-shirt, he started with the heavy photography equipment scattered around the sewing section. He didn't want Adriella to hurt herself trying to move it later, plus he was one who knew how to organize the stuff. Backdrops and lighting hoods were carefully folded up and placed on a shelf. Lights and poles went to the small closet underneath the stairwell. The hard work left him little energy to think about anything else and his attitude began to improve.

Lifting up a fallen backdrop he spotted an old trunk covered in dust. Curious, he set the backdrop aside and pulled the heavy trunk out into the light for him to get a better look. He had never seen this before and, even though he was messy, he always kept track of the equipment in the studio. Flipping the levers, Chris opened the lid carefully to not crack the old leather binding. Inside was a camera cushioned by foam and a small note that he recognized as his mother's handwriting. Proof that you're more like your father than you know. Love, Mom. Setting the note aside with a smile, Chris lifted up the camera and examined it. His heart skipped to his throat when he recognized it as part of the classic 1971 Cannon F-1 series. "Woah," Chris breathed to himself. It was a thing of beauty and design; the pinnacle of professional cameras in its day. He lowered the camera to lift up the foam and stared down at the case in shock. It looked like all of the accessories, from the lenses to the filters, were neatly organized within the trunk. A printed name glared out from the corner of the trunk: Benjamin C. Miller. His father. Smiling softly, he carried the camera over to his work desk and began to clean it.

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For quite a while, Adriella's raging anger kept her from feeling the chill of the rain. How dare he slap her! Her! If he was as close to her mother as he seemed to be, he should have known that physical punishment was not at all tolerated in the Justice family. Had her mother seen her slapped - as greedy as that woman was - she would have grabbed her daughter by the hand and high-tailed it out of there faster than he could even get a word out of those fine, grey lips. But of course her mother hadn't seen and she wasn't about to ruin the relationship her mother had, whether or not there were actual, legitimant feelings between the two.

Yet as she continued on through the rain, her clothes became soaked, her long hair was dripping, her shoes sloshing. The redhead struggled across the busy street and into the warmth of a small cafe at the corner of the street. The shelter didn't last, however, as the angry owner soon appeared, shooing away customers, Adriella included, who were causing her floor to look like the ground outside. Back outside in the rain, she continued on, teeth chattering, until oddly enough she found herself just down the street from Chris' studio. At that point she was beyond caring about getting his studio wet - warmth was all her mind was set on.

It took a fair amount of effort to keep herself from bursting through the door. Adriella opened the door just enough to squeeze through before quickly shutting it and leaning against it in shivers. In her soaked clothing the studio didn't feel all that much warmer, but it was at least better than standing out in the chilling rain.

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Before staring on the nitty gritty of cleaning the camera, Chris has gone over to his record player and dug around for something to calm him as he cleaned. He spotted an old record of Glenn Miller that was his mother's. He couldn't think of anything better to play on an evening like this and placed the record on the player, carefully setting the needle on the outer edge. While all of his friends had moved on to iPods and the such, Chris still kept a special fondness to record players and the crisp sound they produced from records of old. Humming along to "Little Brown Jug", he returned to his work desk and unpacked cleaning solutions and ear swabs from the drawer below.

A few minutes later he thought he heard the click of the door. A glance at the clock told him that he should have turned the OPEN sign to CLOSED 30 minutes ago. Shit, he thought, pushing his chair back to head to the front. Any other day he would accept customers later but he had to get going to his cousin's soon. "Sorry, we're..." he began as he approached the shadow in the doorway but he stopped short when he saw the wet shivering girl. "Adriella!" he gasped, hurrying up to her. A glance behind her to the ally showed no cars or taxis. "What...did you walk here?!" Her shivering made her look so small and pathetic and again he got an image of a lost kitten in the rain. "Come in, I'll get some towels." He hurried to the bathroom in the back and, thankfully, found some clean towels. Pulling a stool close to the heater, he would motion to it for her to sit down. "Here, it's warmest here." The soft drifting sounds of Tuxedo Junction echoed throughout the studio.

"You okay?" He was so close to kicking himself now for letting her leave with that man.

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Adriella blinked rain from her lashes, vision blurred between the water and the heavy wind that had lashed at her as she'd walked. She barely gave Chris so much a glance as he hurriedly grabbed some towels and set her a stool to use. Shoes smooshing and sloshing, she tiptoed over to the stool and sat on the edge in a manner that allowed her to be closer to the heater. Once there she stripped off her bag and jacket, figuring she'd be warmer without the dripping wet garments. From Chris' hands she took the towels - one she wrapped around herself and the other she used to wring out her hair. Her words remained lodged in her throat until her teeth ceased their chattering.

"I'm fine," she grumbled, vibrant and watery amber eyes searching his face briefly before falling to the floor.

Though she knew at one point or another she'd have to explain herself, at that moment the redhead wanted to do anything but explain. She didn't want to talk about the uncomfortable dinner or the modeling proposal, the scolding or the slap, and she definitely didn't want to discuss the fact that she'd walked through the rain for quite some time before reaching the studio. Never before had she ever had to explain herself to anyone. She did what she did and if someone didn't like it, that was their problem.

"You wouldn't happen to have some extra clothes lying around, would you?" Adriella asked with a sniff (perhaps to cover her embarrassment from the question). "It doesn't have to fit, just something to wear until my clothes dry..."

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Chris examined the girl closely as she dried herself off. Was that the face of someone who just got molested...or worse? He knew that some girls could put up a brave front or would prefer to think that nothing really bad happened in the first place. It was hard to judge if Adriella was one of them; she was so cold to begin with. He noticed how, other than one brief moment, she avoided meeting his eyes and frowned. She didn't want to talk about it, that's for sure. But, unlike the topic of the girls from school, he felt a responsibility to pursue the issue further.

"Sure...no lack of clothes here," he turned to look over the shelves for anything that might fit the redhead, glancing occasionally over his shoulder at her. She looked cold and slightly embarrassed. "You know..." He struggled to bring the topic up. "I know it is none of my business and we don't have to talk about it but...if you need to go to the hospital and...get checked out, I'll give you a ride. Stay with you there if you want. Or leave, if you prefer." He reached up and snagged a dress he recognized on the top shelf and pulled it down. He had an ensemble planned for the long, deep-red cotton dress that included a winter jacket and some boots and he figured the warm dress would do for now. The dress was also a perfect choice because it would fit her perfectly except for the length- usually his models were a lot taller than her. His fingers were covered with grease and grime from working with the camera so he held it out to her carefully.

"Sorry...if I'm assuming things. I just...want you to be okay." An unexpected blush burned his cheeks and he looked down at the floor. "The bathroom's around the corner."

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Character Portrait: Christopher Miller
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Adriella Justice

caught in the undertow

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Photographer, Fashion Artist…struggling for inspiration

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Christopher Miller

Photographer, Fashion Artist…struggling for inspiration

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Adriella Justice

caught in the undertow

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Character Portrait: Christopher Miller
Christopher Miller

Photographer, Fashion Artist…struggling for inspiration

Character Portrait: Adriella Justice
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caught in the undertow


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[OOC] his muse, her maker

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