Note: Statements in () are translated from the French language.

She stopped walking and faced me, she looked too serious, lacking a single smile, and her eyes glazed over. I knew I needed to stop talking or change the topic, and to stop talking did not sound to me like the best option. I needed to talk about something riveting, something to restore smiles to her face.

We began climbing the most beautiful staircase I had ever set my eyes on. The staircase had purple lights illuminating from the risers and threads, the banister and handrail had gold filigree all over it, and there was a large mirror with an ornate gold frame on the wall at the landing. 


(Hey! Why are we going upstairs? I know your guest room is downstairs.)


(We are going to my dad's room to say hello to my dad.)


(Oh! Really? How about your dad say something like 'yo Young man! So you the one keeping my beautiful, sexy, thick angel so late? You are under arrest for mishandling of the minister's only daughter' then he puts me in handcuffs and hands me over to the cops?)

She stopped moving forward and revised, then she walked so close to me smiling, and she clung he fingers to mine, we looked at ourselves in the mirror on the wall at the landing. She swung her Hans around my waist line clinging on to my body; her chest rubbing mine.


(Beautiful, sexy, thick angel and her handsome, cute, slender guardian angel. No one can do that to you baby; not under my watch.)


(Alright abby) 

We disengaged and began walking the last stairs. We arrived at a wide passage with frameless mirrors on every part of the wall, then we stopped at a golden fancy pricey door which I guessed was Mr Enzo's. I looked at myself in the mirror and just then I realized that dressing like a mafian was a bad idea and I thought about what changes I could make. I quickly pulled off my jacket and placed it on my forearm, then I thought about all that uncle Tega taught Jade and I about talking with a cop; I knew it was high time I put those teachings into practice.

Just right about then the door opened, and Mr Enzo stood right before us smiling as he opened his arms to receive his daughter, the door closed behind me automatically.


(My sweet girl! I have been waiting for you to come back so I can get some rest. I have got a busy day ahead.)


(I am so, so, so sorry daddy.)

Mr Enzo, a brown skinned aged man of about fifty years, a bit potbellied. He was on a flat top hairstyle just like mine which helped relax my nerves; he was moderately bearded and at about my height. He wore a gold colored night clothes and a pair of brown slippers. 

I felt left out of the play for centuries. So, I slowly changed my position in other to be noticed.

"Hello Mr Enzo!"

"Hello sonny! How are you doing?"

"I am doing great and you?"

"Oh! I am okay, just a bit pooped and needs some rest."


(Um! Dad, this is Sam, my friend, he was the celebrant.)

"Ah! The Tega's boy, am I correct?"

"Yes you are, Mr Enzo."

"Happy birthday son."

"Thank you."


(Um! Dad, he understands French; he was the best in French classes back in highschool.) 

"Son of a gun!"
(You understand the French language?)


(Yes I do.)


(Your mom French?)


(No.)


(Your dad?)


(Not at all.)


(So! how did you?)

He walked to a large golden locker at the extreme of the room, rummaging through it for what I could not guess.


(Um I enjoyed the French language a lot and wished to learn it at all cost, even though it kind of sounded so complex; but like my mom will always say "love it, and you will do it better". I loved the French language and I learned it better. Moreover, some English words are borrowed from the French language.)

He returned with a bottle of MOET wine in his right hand and a box of choccies in his left hand, he handed them over to me.


(That is such an enthusiastic story to hear son; I am staggered. This bottle of wine is your birthday gift and this box of choccies is for being a wonderful kid. I hope to chat with you again.)


(Thank you so much, Mr. Enzo. I appreciate it.)


(You welcome son. Maribel, show him to the guest room, and please get him to comfort.)


(Okay. Good night dad.)

They kissed each other chastely on the cheeks. 


(Goodnight Mr. Enzo!)


(Goodnight son!)

Maribel and I descended the stairs chatting and laughing. Maribel never thought that I could put up such astounding performance in there, and neither did I. We walked through a cozy quiet passage and stopped at a silver decorated door - the guest room. Maribel twisted and pulled the knob to open the door. She switched ON the lights to expose the beauty of the room.

"Okay baby boy! Make yourself very comfortable. You can take your shower, watch television, listen to music, read a fanzine, or anything you want to do."

"So, where you gon be at baby?"

She moved closer to me again, groped through my thighs for my cock, and rubbed it gently with her fingers. I quickly chucked all that I had in my hands on the bed, and grasped her sexy thick ass, and massaged it calmly.


(I will be gone, freshen up. We've got hours handsome. I will be with you soonest.)


(Okay beautiful. Do not keep your guest so uncomfortable, your dad warned.)

"Woe betide anyone who does. See you in a few, sweetheart."

"You too sexy sexy."

She left shutting the door behind her. I had a quick shower for just two minutes and I was out of the bathroom wearing just a PUMA boxers. I switched ON the television and the CNN news was on display; I had to just mute the television. I picked up my phone from the table and connected it to the Sony music player, then played a music playlist consisting of songs from: Trey Songz, Jacquees, Omarion, Usher, Tory Lanez, Loudtrips, R Kelly and Partynextdoor . I titled the playlist 'sex playlist'.

I took out a half filled bottle of 'loud' and a piece of Raw rolling paper from my jacket and slowly rolled a joint, then I rummaged through my pockets for my lighter and finally found it. I sat in the recliner, lighted up my 'jay' and began smoking. I moved my body slowly to the rhythms of the melodious sound as it overwhelmed the room through the music player. 

There was a slight noise behind the door for few seconds, and the door opened widely.


Hello guys!
Did you know that the chills you get when you listen to music, are mostly caused by the brain releasing dopamine while anticipating the peak moment of a song?



Samson Frodd popularly known as Loud in this contemporary male leading romance, goes through an unconscious transition of spreading love to spreading legs. Samson is what the lover boy is called, while Loud is what the playboy is called.

Loud attends his homeboy and new friend's birthday party at the Cave City where he meets quite a pretty,  properly shaped and captivating Melanie (Ashley), of whom he claims to be the one.

COULD SHE BE THE ONE?

I'm afraid this is the moment I should kill somebody and then amuse you, my dear, with my marvelous escape.
Well.
I'm sorry.
I haven't killed anybody, nor have never stolen anything and honestly, I never did anything to get anyone in trouble, myself included.
Kinda boring, isn't it?
Don't worry, though. 
For you, my dear, I will change.
                                                                                    ***
The break was coming to an end and the queue wasn't getting shorter. Actually, there were still three girls standing in front of me.
"Oh, I hate this!" Said the first one with her scarlet lips and pink gloves on her hands.
I thought gloves were a good idea.
It was cold.
However, I wish it was colder.
"Late again, huh?" Laughed the second one.
"Mr. Treehouse will kill us!" Cried the third one with sparkles in her eyes.
"Don't pretend that you..." Started the first one, with a wicked smile, but I already stopped listening.
I checked my phone. 
The lesson started in two minutes.
The door of the toiled opened and a little girl in dark, shabby jacked went out. Red Lips looked at her in dudgeon. Late Again and Sparkles followed. 
"Hurry!" Said Sparkles cheerful when the girl left.
Red Lips went into the cabin. Sparkles added that Mr. Treehouse has nice eyes. Late Again chuckled and without a second of lingering agreed.
I checked my phone. French started just as I noted the time. I really needed to hurry up and so did Late Again, Sparkles and Red Lips.
Ah.
Three missed calls and one message from Don't Pick Up. "Pick up," it said.
Me: sry I can't 
Don't Pick Up: I know ur in school 
Don't Pick Up: but u really need to pick up
Don't Pick Up: I'm calling now
Me: I won't pick up
Don't Pick Up: why it's important 
Me: busy
Don't Pick Up: it's about Time
Me: what
Don't Pick Up: she is in trouble
Me: she is not 
I was right though. Time wasn't in trouble. She couldn't. She was trouble herself.
Don't Pick Up: February 
Me: what
Don't Pick Up: call her
Me: what happened
Don't Pick Up: idk call her she was here and left u a note
Me: she could have texted me
Don't Pick Up: she said u blocked her
I did.
Me: how does she know
Don't Pick Up: idk she said u did this before 
I did. 
Don't Pick Up: did u fight again 
Me: she doesn't like chocolate 
Me: ppl who doesn't eat chocolate are unstable 
Don't Pick Up: she said she will eat a brownie for u if u unblock her 
So she was in trouble. And knowing Time it was pretty bad. Especially if she was desperate enough to eat a brownie.
Me: when did she wanna meet
Don't Pick Up: idk she didn't say anything about it but u should call her she looked tired 
It didn't worry me as it should have. However, Time was always tired. She looked like a student right before an important test, so like a really sleep-deprived person. It didn't make her look bad. Even exhausted she was the prettiest girl I have ever met. Or maybe she was the prettiest girl when I met her and then I just couldn't look at her like she wasn't.
I checked the time. Ten minutes late. Red Lips and Late Again already went to the toilet. I was waiting only for Sparkles.
Don't Pick Up: will u call her 
And Time was beautiful in the way all people that once were important are.
Anyway, I knew Time wanted to meet. She always wanted to meet or talk or text. Even when there was nothing left to chat about.
I checked the time. I was still late.
Don't Pick Up: ??
Don't Pick Up: sis u should 
Don't Pick Up: she needs u
Sometimes I wondered if my sister wasn't in love with Time herself. 
Me: ok 
I looked up. Red Lips, Late Again, and Sparkles chatted peacefully right in front of the cabin.
"Sorry..." I muttered under my breath to opened the door.
It was so calm in the toilet and so quiet. No wonder many people cry in the bathrooms...
I smiled at the girl in the mirror, but she didn't smile back. Instead, her grim face got only grimmer with a frown.
"How mean." I thought.
I looked at my phone one more time. It's was six past ten. I was sixteen minutes late.
The girl in the mirror shook her head as if she hated being late. I understood that very well. I loathed being late myself.
There was something disturbing in the sharp silence coming through the door with the person who was late. And something sticky in the stares of others who went into the classroom on time.
"I hate French." Noticed the girl from the mirror bright as she was.
And I hated French too. Plus, I was late.
That girl beside me smiled finally. However, it wasn't a wide smile or even the charming one. It was a narrow and crooked thing, this smile.
"Goodbye, mirror girl." I thought.
I put my bag on a window sill and with enthusiasm that was alien to my hands, I opened the window. An unpleasant crack attacked my ears. It didn't matter though. 
I felt freedom combing my hair with wind and my smile widened.
I sat on the sill and glanced down. Luckily the only toilet in school was on the first floor. 
And that is the reason, the only reason, my dear, why I jumped. 
I didn't wanna die as some might have thought. Nor did I desire to break my bones. 
I just didn't like French.
It was a hard thing to defenestrate yourself the right way. I nearly forgot my bag. Grabbing it last second I slid to the ground.
The ground, mind my dear friend, not snow.
Like I said before the winters are way too warm these days.

They might have told you that Time is trustworthy. Or that Time won’t ever lie to you. 
But in fact, all she does is lying. She might have lied even in that first kiss on the first of July... Or maybe there was no kiss on the first of July? February can’t even tell... Her memories are blurring and all because of Time and her magic tricks. But now when Time is all gone... All February wants is to get her back.

Mary is a loner, a homeless person, and a smoker. She’s also the link between both worlds. Our world. And the Second world, Jinx. But the worlds are falling apart and Mary is the one that has to save them. Except she can’t do it alone this time... 

What will happen when these worlds collide?

Ivory pearls hang from my nape down to my breast matching the heel of my emerald-embedded shoes. They were to suit my eyes without fail when Ella selected them out of the hundreds of heels on the shoe sides. They were mainly off-white ivory, and monochromatic to the rest of my garments. I winced at the taut corset around my waist was pulled tighter and tied up in the back by my maid. "Left leg, right leg." I seem to have forgotten I have a right leg entirely, I'm often told I'm as graceless as a man with two left feet, I think to myself while I step into a large, oversized metal hoop crinoline. The cold steel press against my thighs as Ella adjusts it to my waist. She then sets me down carefully, as if I was a porcelain doll onto a plush brocade chair to slip on a cloth half-slip underskirt. Reaching underneath the itchy fabric of my skirt and through the holed metal crinoline I pull my thick white stocking further up my thighs. Feeling the cold metallic sting of the crinoline I recoil my hand back on top of my lap looking up to see Ella holding a large ivory dress. I slip on the silky fabric over my head allowing the off-shoulder balloon sleeves to slip down my shoulders, cinched at the bottom and ending at my forearm. The ruffled silk material continued from my chest down to the skirt of the gown, settled on top of the first couple layers of silk, a thin lightweight spotted fabric lay atop the actual gown; it was the same semi-transparent material as the sleeves. Small pearl buttons ran down my laced corset and tied neatly on each side. Ella beckoning me to take a seat at my dresser of considerable size gathering pins and a comb to begin working on my coiffure. I write down the word on a sheet of parchment with an ink pen, coiffure. What an attractive word, I quite fancy it. A French ambassador visiting the palace taught it to me when he complimented my hair. I inspect the word further reading it aloud while grabbing a small bottle of perfume from the corner of my dresser and spritzing it on my chest and wrist. "coiffure? Whatever does that mean" Ella inquiries of the fanciful word? I laugh " You're saying it wrong it's kwa-fure, and it means a detailed hair assortment, it a French word I learned from a visiting French man all the way from France. Ella combs my lengthy jet-black hair through hair fingertips casting aside the wooden brush, pinning up my long tresses into a decorous knot of hair braided at the backside. "You and these French people didn't the perfumer from Lyon gift you that one" She glances towards the bottle of perfume I just placed down, " So you do pay attention when I talk" I abruptly stand twirling around Ella and kneeling in front of an old wooden chest, beginning to rummage through its insides. " Of course I listen when you talk, it's my job, and get off your knees you'll wrinkle the dress" I stand up grabbing a hand mirror and sitting on my embroidered sheets cinching each earring onto my earlobe and flattering my vanity as I looked into the small rounded mirror. My most prized possessions, pearl earrings from France, Paris. The lustrous rounded balls contrasted my emerald green irises and pale complexion to perfection. Ella cups my freckled face into her hand and tucks some loose strands of hair behind my ear "My darling you look gorgeous" I smile into the palms of her hands. "Don't I always?" 
Ella looks behind her shoulder, letting go of my face and smoothing out her apron. "It is time my dear."

The year was 1797; the grand duchess of England anticipated her arrival to the King's ceremony, where all of England and French attend, attempting to sign a treaty between the Revolutionary French. When the very same people whom the duchess had invited into her home, had allowed to feast and wine on her food and alcohol back-stabbed her and invaded Great Britain, killing her husband and most beloved. The duchess then takes her fate into her own hands and decided to kill herself. But when she open her eyes once again, she realizes her life has start anew.

Mo Jingshen recovered very quickly. Perhaps after sleeping for two months without moving, his wounds had a lot of more room to heal, unlike before when his wounds were easily torn up.
Except that he was a little thinner, he was no different from before.
He remained as cold and dignified as she remembered. He was still the man she was familiar with.
The only difference was that he stopped smiling at her, and his eyes no longer stopped at her. Even if they were sitting in the same plane, even if they were sitting in the same row and he was right beside her, she felt he was far, far away from her.
After a while, Ji Nuan suddenly laid her hand on his leg, and the man, who had closed his eyes, opened them and stared at her coldly. "What are you doing?"
She looked at her hand on his lap, then at his apparently unhappy look, and pursed her lips. "Excuse me, I need to go to the bathroom."
Although there was plenty of room in the first class, he, tall and long-legged, sat on the outside of the aisle, and she couldn't get out unless he moved.
Mo Jingshen looked at her again and moved his leg.
Ji Nuan withdrew her hand awkwardly. As she got up, the plane passed an area of turbulence and suddenly bumped. Perhaps unintentionally or deliberately, she stumbled and fell into his arms. Though she could stabilize her body, she still put her hands on his legs. At the same time, she leaned forward and almost fell into his arms, and their faces were only a finger apart.
At such a close distance, he looked at her deadpan. Her heart was pounding, but she said calmly, "Sorry, I lost my footing."
Mo Jingshen: "…"
Before getting up, she deliberately pressed her hand hard on his leg, touching his "golden thigh" to her heart's content—which she had not been allowed to lately—before she turned to go to the bathroom not far from the first-class cabin.
Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, she forced a smile. Feeling that the smile didn't look good, she pulled the corners of her mouth up with her hands and didn't put down her hand until a satisfied smile appeared on her face.
They were going back to Hai City, to their original world, to their original life.
Divorce? Of course, she wouldn't get divorced.
But she had been so alienated by him that she seemed unable to maintain the status quo. In this marriage, what mattered was not dignity, pride, or self-esteem. He had done so much for her, both when she knew and when she didn't know. Not long ago, he had almost died for her. If she easily gave up and left him, she would fail him, as well as herself.
Anyway, they were husband and wife, which was a reasonable and legal relationship. At the worst, she would chase him from behind. If he retreated, she would step forward; if he were cold, she would be warm; if he avoided her, she would take the initiative; if he were expressionless, she would smile at him.
As Mrs. Mo, it was perfectly legal and legitimate for her to get into his bed!
As long as she took the initiative, he could not, however powerful, take away the title of Mrs. Mo from her unless she agreed to divorce.
Ji Nuan smiled at the mirror again. She didn't go out until she felt her smile was natural and beautiful.
When she returned to her seat, she passed him as he rose and looked up at his stern face. She suddenly stood on her tiptoes and whispered in his ear when no stewardesses were passing by. "Honey, after several days of pondering, I've finally come to a decision."
After hearing her call him "Honey," he coldly glanced at her as if looking at a madwoman.
As she had made up her mind to win him back, she wouldn't give up easily, so she still smiled and looked into his dark, placid eyes, whispering, "I've decided… I won't agree to divorce you even if you put a knife to my neck."
Hearing her words, he gave her a sharp look. Without waiting for him to speak, she went back into her seat, fastened her seatbelt, and picked up a magazine to read, eager to fly back to Hai City.
Mo Jingshen didn't say anything. He certainly didn't plan to discuss their divorce on the plane.
After reading the magazine for a while, Ji Nuan patted him from time to time, asking him to get a glass of water, a blanket, or a headset for her. She spoke to him almost every half hour. Although the man ignored her, Ji Nuan still patted his hand after half an hour as if he had never rejected her. 
Mo Jingshen's eyes grew a little colder. He looked at her.
"I haven't studied French. I don't understand these words. Don't you know many languages? What does this paragraph mean?" Ji Nuan asked, solemnly placing the magazine before him and pointing to the French passage on the last page. 
Seemingly annoyed by her clumsy acting skill and stupid pickup lines, he had no intention of speaking to her.
"Help me translate it into Chinese. It's not very long, two or three sentences at most," she asked again, pointing to the passage in French.
Mo Jingshen looked at the part she pointed to, his eyes deep and unfathomable, but he didn't translate it for her.
It was about three hours from the plane's landing in Hai City, and Ji Nuan had been looking at the French passage. Across the aisle sat a French student with a Chinese to French dictionary in his hand. Ji Nuan borrowed the dictionary from him and looked up word by word. 
In the end, she took a pen and wrote down the translation on her boarding pass.
Quoi qu'il se passe, si une personne t'aime réellement, elle reviendra toujours avec le temps.
No matter what happens, if someone really loves you, with time, he/she will come back eventually.
Ji Nuan returned the dictionary to the French student and set before Mo Jingshen's eyes what she had just written.
She looked at him with bright eyes. "Did I translate it correctly?"
Mo Jingshen glanced at the neat line of words she had written on the boarding pass and kept silent, but his eyes remained cold. When she drew near him and asked again, he looked at her with a look like a knife that would cut her, saying indifferently, "It has many meanings. Self-sentimental people often translate a very simple sentence into an extremely romantic one. Generally speaking, self-sentimental people are pathetic." 
The smile on Ji Nuan's lips spread instead of fading away. "It is better to be sentimental than impersonal."


Having been reborn, she takes one glance at her ridiculously handsome husband and wonders if she had suffered from brain damage back then—she had actually demanded for a divorce with him. Repeatedly! 

In her previous life, she had been deceived by her relatives who eventually led her to her tragic death. With this second chance at life, she vows to cozy up to her husband both literally and figuratively to destroy all her enemies and to take down the women who hid behind their scheming, innocent facades. She would be in control of her own happiness!

This is a sweet, doting love story featuring an intelligent female lead and a perfect male lead who's good at turning her knobs.

John Doe was a strong young man, studying Mathematics in the French university of Versailles. He was quite tall and well built, something that he had inherited from his father. He had blond short hair, and light green eyes, in which you could see a bit of violet, if you looked deeper into it. He was British, but had come to France to study in order to visit the country that he loved since young. Which gastronomy could compare with French gastronomy, and whose wine could compare with French wine ? Furthermore, he was fascinated by all their stories from the middle age, with truly noble Knights, and loyal ladies... Their philosophy, too, interested him, and he couldn't count the number of French books he had read since coming there. 

So John was until now a common student at university, however, he had a dream. Maybe it was a dream that all young men had, but it was at least an important dream to him. That was to rescue a damsel in distress, and if needed, die for that (though he would prefer to die in her arms). 
He dreamt that he would need to fight against evil terrorists for that, and that he would heroically stop a shot from killing her with his arm (the left since he was right-handed). Then she would look at him with gentle eyes and confess her love to him in front of everyone...

Then one day, he was in such a situation... He was visiting the Versailles' castle with a group of friends. He had long whished to do so, since it was the top level of architectural prowess, as well as a decoration masterpiece. And, on that day, he went there, with two French friends who would guide them, and 6 other stranger students. Among them was a beautiful French girl, who he had flirted with since long ago without any result. When they entered the famous mirror gallery, they suddenly heard a sound of shooting right in front of them. John saw two people with submachine-guns, who were shooting at everyone.  He did everything along the script, going up to the men, knocking them out, and earning a few shots in the right chest, arm and shoulder. Then he looked at the girl, named Sabrina, hoping for sweet, thankful look, but she didn't do as he thought she would. Rather, she took out a submachine-gun and killed everyone around them, before kissing him on the lips, and saying "sorry sweetie, I am a terrorist too !" before shooting him to death...

Every girl grows up to want to be a princess. Myself included. As I drift off to sleep, I imagine the embrace of a warm, kind, and gentle prince. A handsome prince who would love me in the same way he would love his country.
I drift off to sleep, deeper and deeper. I descend into a death-like sleep, unlike any other. I can feel my body sweat profusely, my pulse rise and my breathing become short and panicked. I sit up straight in bed as if I had been startled awake by a nightmare. A very cruel nightmare. I look around, expecting to see my lovely pink room, to be startled awake to a maid in a castle's apparent guest room.
"Thank goodness! I thought you had died! I found you passed out in front of the castle door. You didn't even have a pulse!" A young girl with a side plait braid in a French maid outfit sits at my bedside. She has a soft rural French accent also. "I called the head maid. She should be here any moment," She looks to the door, "One moment." She stands up to open the door. She walks outside of the room, most likely to find this "head maid"?
I look down. I am in luxurious silky golden-yellow sheets, on a massive bed. I scan the room to see a vanity mirror. I try to move out of bed, but my legs are as heavy as lead. I inspect the mirror, to find that I don't look like myself. I have bright emerald green eyes and dusty brown hair with grey strands highlighting waves in my hair, where I would usually have black hair and near-black eyes. I move my arms, despite the tingling feeling as I move them. I am in a white peasant top, which isn't my PJ's. This must be a nightmare.

"This is the dorm?" Zu asked. Her roommate looked from the small mirror and lifted her French eyebrows.

    "Are you knew here or something?" she asked. Zu kept looking around and swallowed. "Yes. It's nice. Bigger than my house back in Taiwan," Zu replied. Zu kept a large smile on her face.

    The French girl was tall, dirty blonde hair, pale, and was such a beautiful model from what Zu seen.

    The girl stepped away from the mirror and held her hand out. "Name's Poland," she introduced. Zu stopped in shock when she saw Poland standing so close. Zu slowly shook her hand. "Zu," Zu replied. "I know," Poland says. Zu looked confused. "Your sister died. I saw the news last year. I'm sorry for your loss." Poland speaks. Zu bowed to her.

    Poland shook both her hands no. "There's no need to bow here. For this city, bowing means you're some kind of servant. Don't bow unless it's a teacher or boss," Poland informed Zu.

    Zu and Poland locked eyes for a few seconds then turned the other way. "From Taiwan?" Poland asked.

    Zu nodded. "My sister and I could've been sharing a room. But she's -" Zu looked up to Poland who looked sad and understanding. "Yeah." Poland unpacked some things as Zu sat on the bed across from Poland's. The curtains were pulled back and the sun was shining through nicely. The sheets were soft and warm. The two pillows were fluffy and white while sitting on top of the black blanket they college has given her for the dorm.

    "So . . when do we start class?" Zu asked. Poland put her clothes inside a really small dresser.

    "In a few days. They pay for the food and things until we get our jobs. After you get a job, you'll report to the administrator and he'll make sure you'll be able to pay for your own things," Poland answered.

    The door gave a small knock. "Ohh! Who could that be?" Quantum asked. Zu watched the door as she a bad feeling set off in her bones. Poland opened the door and Zu sat stood up. A boy smiled leaning onto the door looking Poland in the eyes. "Hey beautiful," they spoke French.

    Zu was now standing for no reason. "Did my trick work?" Quantum asked. Zu swallowed.

    Poland and the boy kissed for about ten seconds. Poland looked back with her lips red. "My apologies. Vel, this is Zu, Zu, this is Vel," Poland introduced. Vel lifted his head.

    "Why do you look so . . . worried?" Vel asked. Zu couldn't speak. She shrugged and looked away as the words found it hard to come from her mouth. 
"I . . I don't . . uh." Zu sat back on the bed pretending to mind her own business. Vel shrugged with his curly hair flopping in front of his face.

    "She looked like she was about to fight some sort of villain or something. Not like she's big enough to do so," Vel smiled.

    "'Oh! I can show him the opposite!" Quantum chimed in. Zu shook her head. Poland closed the door and stood by it looking down to Zu. "What was that? You looked like you were ready to fight him," Poland asked.

    Zu shook her head again. "I just thought you were someone else," Zu replied. She lay back on the bed.

    "That was weird. Especially coming from an Asian girl. They're not used to other races being in this school. Chill out," Poland warned Zu. "They'll get use to my fist," Quantum chimed in. "I met you an hour ago and you're already acting weird." Poland chuckled and sat on her bed.

    "Ever heard of an Ophelia?" Zu asked. Poland paused for a moment. "I don't know what you're talking about," Poland swallowed. Zu nodded. "Just thought you did. You seem smart," Zu replied. "Me? No. You're good at your French. Who taught you?" Poland asked. Zu thought of Quantum and shrugged. "I was just . . born with the power of speaking other languages," Zu answered.

    "If you ask me, that is awesome. But uh, Imma go to the store. You can look around this school. It's a public place, if you didn't know, ha!" Poland smiled. Zu nodded watching as Poland walked out the door.

    "What the fuck did I get myself into?" Zu was now mumbling in her natural language, Chinese.

Symbiotes were killed off by their cousins. The human race called these things Ophelias. A strong being that takes a human and makes them its host. Zu Kami was forced to be one while her sister suffered a far more dangerous power. Both forced to protect their small city from ones that hold a similar situation.

"How's it looking?"

"Not bad, I look weird."

V snorts, "You look weird? Dude I just dyed my hair white."

Max grins, "I'm sure it looks good."

"I'm just glad that's a plus of being a Freak, I can just go straight to white."

He smiles, "So who you going to be this time?"

"Hmm...I don't know. Who do I look like?"

She walks out of the bathroom and sits in the chair across from Max.

He frowns, "D-did, are you wearing contacts?"

She shakes her head, it's uh, something I stole from the lab I was in when I was little...littler. There were two but I used one immediately."

"What is it?"

"Uh, well I call it iris dye. It changes the color of your eyes, it's a little serum. Part of their experiments to help us become lethal weapons I guess."

"Thats freaking cool, but that's really depressing."

She half smiles, "Yeah."

"So what color does it change your eyes?"

She shrugs, "Supposedly whatever color I want, but I'm not sure. Sorry, I only got one left."

"Don't worry about it. How are you V? I mean, the real you."

She frowns and raises an eyebrow at him, "Dude we were born in a lab, we don't have a real us."

"Heh, alright fair enough, but, maybe it's just me, but did you imagine someone for yourself?"

"So what if I did? It's not like I can be them."

Max's turn to give a weird face, "Why not? I mean I understand hiding and being undercover that, but I want to be myself. If I'm going to live, I want to be me, and happy doing it."

She shakes her head, "You're an idiot."

"Buuuut?"

She stares at him for a few seconds and finally scoffs, "I do wish I could sometimes, but, if we're caught, we can't ever be that person again."

Max shrugs, "I'd like to see them try to stop me. I'm not ever going to be someone other than me."

She tilts her head and studies his eyes, "You are very interesting, your hope and stubbornness is annoying-"

"If you want to split after we get there or now-"

"Let me finish."

Max hesitates but closes his mouth. She smiles.

"Unfortunately, your hope is also contagious. How do you have so much hope? I thought they had tortured you?"

He nods, "They did, but I was always alone. I always wanted to be me, if I was going to suffer for the rest of my life, I at least éd wanted that to be my choice."

V sighs, "I understand that. I always imagined being French, Alice Couture as my name."

"Couture?"

"I believe it means 'tailor' in French. I've made a life for that name, it's my last resort, but...I might make that the new me."

"You sure no one else knows?"

She nods, "If they know about Alice Couture, I'll be very, very surprised. I even got the accent down." halfway through her phrase, her American accent turns to a thick French accent."

Max's eyes shoot up and he grins, "Mm, that's definitely you. Blue eyes, if you choose Alice, do blue eyes."

"Hmm, you think so?" she asks,

V gets up and looks in the mirror. "Yeah, blue eyes, maybe lighter blue?"

"Mm, actually grey."

She shakes her head, "I can't believe I'm listening to you."

He smiles and gets up to look in the mirror, she's cut his hair and dyed it a chocolate brown.

She pulls a loaded syringe from the cabinet behind the bathroom mirror and takes a breath.

"Will it hurt?" Max asks,

She shakes her head, "Nah. Let's see if I can turn it to grey."

Before he can respond, she ram the needle into her thigh and injects it fast. She pulls the syringe out and sets it on the counter. She takes deep breathes and sits on the edge of the tub.

"Are you okay V?!"

Max extends his hands to her, to catch her in case she falls. "N-no I'm okay, it just takes a few seconds. Hows it looking?"

He looks at her and watches the grey color eat away the brown of her iris until only grey remains.

"Okay, how do I look?" V, now Alice, asks in her French accent,


"Really good, it suits you really well."

"Thanks, not too bad yourself. Now, let's get some rest, in the past, I ran immediately. I'm sure they'll assume as much now, but we can go in the morning."

"Oui, bien."

She raises an eyebrow, "Not bad. Now let's go over what to do again."

"Okay, we'll go to our dorms, get settled in and 'meet for the first time' in the school halls the next day."

She nods, "Oui, er, I mean yes."

Max smiles, "That looked really natural."

She raises her eyebrow again, "You say that like you were not expecting it to be."

He shrugs, "Wasn't expecting it to be THAT real, even the body language added to it."

"Thank you."

"Do you really think we can find normal lives?"

"It'll be fine. Where's the confidence you just had?"

"I guess I'm just nervous. I don't want to mess this up for you."

Her eyebrows raise, then the corner of her mouth curls. "You're sweet, but this is going to work Max."

He sighs and runs his fingers through his hair. "You're right, we got this."

"And if anything happens, we'll stick together, watch out for each other."

He grins, "You have no idea how nice it is to hear that."

She nods, "Yes I do. I've been outside, sure, but...I know what it is to be alone."

She sits beside him and lays her head on his shoulder. His heart pounds, but he doesn't want to stop her, this is the most positive attention he can remember ever receiving, at least since Marleen.

He leans his head against hers. She sits upright and clears her throat. "I-uh, we should get to bed, we need to be alert and careful tomorrow."

"Yeah, you're right. Sorry V."

She shakes her head, "No, don't be."

She walks out of the room, frustrated with herself. Max sighs and shakes his head, he was too forward, he knows she's going to be slow to trust. He's just excited because he hasn't had a friend in so long.

He lays back on the couch and stares at the ceiling.

I was used for war and death. I was exiled to a life of death. But then you came along. You told me that we crossed paths for a reason. You told me we could be friends....and I knew I could trust you.

Fang Chixia stare him for a long time before her facial expressions changed.

She was not afraid of being found out by Luo Yibei. but She just didn't want to let him know about her work, because it would lead to unnecessary misunderstandings and troubles for her.

Will he regard her current behavior as one of the means of integrating herself into the Luo's family? of course Yes, he will think that way!

Fang Chixia did not mention her own affairs and problems to Luo Yibei so she completely didn't know how he would look at the situation.

In fact, she had a little worry in her mind about whether Lou Yibei would transfer her to work with him if he knew.

Shi Jinyang who sat opposite her noticed the  change on her facial expressions and his forehead wrinkled, "What's wrong?"

Fang Chixia looked up and apology to him and said, "I just forgot, I still have an urgent matter to deal with. I'm sorry Mr. Shi, I have to go first."

After throwing that excuse, she got up and vacated her seat in hurry.

"What's so urgent? Let's eat lunch first!" Shi Jinyang was deeply puzzled by her behavior and followed her from behind.

"No, it's alright. I'll just find a place to settle it later." Fang Chixia did not turn back but accelerated her walking speed even more.

Shi Jinyang quietly looked at her disappearing figure and the confusion in his eyes grew even thicker.

Why did she leave in such a hurry? what happened?

The place where the two were was very close to Rongxi. Fang Chixia hurried out of the restaurant and specifically went around the road in a circle in fear of running into Luo Yibei, she didn't not want to meet him right now.

The figure had just left when Luo Yibei appeared right behind the restaurant door.

He looked toward the direction of her disappearance, stared at the bustling crowd, and suddenly had the illusion of seeing her.

He entered the restaurant and sat at the place where Fang Chixia had just vacated. Looking at a cup of grapefruit tea, he thoughtlessly asked, "Just on a date with a woman?"

"Yes, you ruined it." Shi Jinyang annoyed by his question and answer him.

"Where is she?" Luo Yibei asked again looking into his eyes.

"You scared her away." Shi Jinyang gracefully sipped the wine in his glass and without batting an eye shifted all the blame onto him.

Not knowing that it was truly because of him!

But, Shi Jinyang had no idea about it.

Luo Yibei was dumbfounded. He glanced at him and coldly returned, "Knowing that I am coming, the average woman would respond by taking out her mirror and take a good look at her face!"

"Cough…" Shi Jinyang choked at his words and the look in his eyes were out of sorts.

This guy is really confident.

He was really right about that, though.

If an average woman knew he was coming, she would probably dig all the holes and think of how she could win his favor.

"Let's eat, let's eat!" Both were familiar with each other so Shi Jinyang didn't bother being polite to him. When their order was served, each ate his own share.

The two meals served were ordered when Fang Chixia was still there and one of them was hers.

Both of them ordered a French set of meal at that time. One-fourth of Shi Jinyang's blood was of French descent so he was fond of French food.

Fang Chixia's major was related with French culture, therefore, she also ordered French.

Shi Jinyang's menu set was an escargots set, a classic French dish.

Fang Chixia's meal set has no staple food and was made up of all sorts of small things, from appetizer to soup, to fish, cold dishes, hot plates, to barbecues, bowls and dishes were laid out which was unusually complicated.

He is the legendary powerhouse, the king of the business empire. She is just an ordinary female student. they are world apart from each other but she some how requested him to marry her and he accepted it and their story begins....... 



it's short and cute love story and I am only using the idea of original author, but how is it going to be it's totally upto me........

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