Thread: New Guy In Town (Dream and J)

It was a particularly balmy day that July evening. The sun was strung high in the sky since early the early morning, terrorizing and burning its victims with harmful rays. Some residents of the ocean-side city were intelligent enough to seek refuge and shade in the valley while others collected their families and scuttled off to the beach's strand. The residents of the city had reason to believe that this oncoming summer would be perhaps one of the most sweltering and arid they had seen in years. Rather then be outside at the beach flaunting her stunningly curvaceous figure or downing scoop after scoop of vanilla ice-cream, one young woman decided the best refuge from the sun were the thick walls of her apartment building. Her name was Estelle Lights, an exotic twenty-one year old hailing from Brazilian and Persian decent. Her eyes generally reflected her disinterest they were an intense, brimming shade of ginger-ale. She was tall and shapely with legs that only forlorn artists could sculpt and a very soft and somewhat plain features. Nonetheless she was still a foreign flower that was constantly sought after by many of the male residences in the Maplehurst building, specifically the gang-banging crack dealer that lived across from her. Now, Estelle was a very private and disclosed woman. After suffering from melanoma since a tenderly young age, she grew tired of being a test subject for needles and IVs. The doctor's told her recently that if she didn't submit to chemotherapy and other recommended treatments that her odds of surviving would drop circumstantially low. Estelle was stubborn, and nonchalantly declined her doctor's aid. The man was shocked to say the least. He begged and pleaded with her, explaining that the melanoma she possessed was now terminal and would take her life before her 23rd birthday - if not sooner - if she didn't heed his advice. Estelle retorted that there was no point in the therapy. She would lose all of her hair - her absolutely stunning, stark black lion's mane - and the natural, illustrious glow of her bronzed flesh. Why throw away bliss when it will be taken away down the road regardless, she reasoned. The tall woman entered the building on a pair of flimsy baby blue flip-flops, gnashing her teeth on the handle of a plastic grocery bag while she fuddled with her key for the building's front door. She stepped inside, reveling in the cool blast of artificially created air being mustered and blasted in from the building's cheap idea of 'air-conditioning'. The foyer was decently decorated, littered with two black sofas, a reception desk and a few exotic looking plants from God knew where. Estelle watched with bitter ginger-ale eyes as the receptionist, a middle aged salt-and-pepper haired woman, fluttered over to the desk with her lunch in tow. A man was standing there she hadn't noticed him before. He was large - it was perhaps the best adjective she could muster - to say the least. Broad shoulders, broad chest and quite a handsome looking facade. Though Estelle was generally uninterested by men in general but there was an earthy, alien aura swarming around this new man that made something about him intriguing. Oooh! Estelle, good evening, darling! The woman, conveniently named Pepper-Anne, waved a gentle hand towards Estelle who was skillfully balancing several plastic bags in her hands and on her arms. Hey, Estelle murmured nonchalantly. Her tone was muffled by the bag. Where have you been all day? I left a notice on your door... we need money for the AC. Estelle chuckled. She removed the bag from her mouth and stuffed her keys into her strapless black top. And where, Pepper-Anne, where you be getting that money from? Certainly not from me.listulistulistulistulistulistulistulistulistu