Hello, fellow perverts!
This should have been uploaded 4 months ago. Sadly, I am a slow writer, a procrastinator, and I am ANNOYED by revising because: a) I revise so much; b) mistakes get through the cracks anyways (Thank God you can edit your text after uploading hahaha? (~_~;) ).
I hope you will still enjoy the present installment of this series. Just like I promised in the first one, this one is saucier, and I am intent on speeding up the pacing and building up the lewdness. I also hope to release the next chapter much faster than I did this one.
I appreciate some constructive feedback because I try to challenge myself as a writer, although I find my challenges rather tame. I tried some new things in this chapter, hence I wonder how many of them paid off. It's especially important because I generally like to play around with the presentation of information: how much trust I put into the reader to decipher the story on its own, without me spoon-feeding or even obfuscating it, as well as how I try to convey irrational human behavior.
Thank you and enjoy!
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Dear Luke,
This took a while.
Know that you can stop reading whenever you wish. I doubt you have opened the box because of any kind feeling. By the time you're reading this, I believe you've grown into a man who needs no help in making his own judgement. Burn this letter on a fraternity party, moderately enjoy it, wipe your ass with it. By all means, read it and forget about it. In whatever manner you approach this letter, I am sure you'll be right.
You won't find any justification of my actions in this text. I think we all reach a time when we lack words to present ourselves as good people, and our justification becomes yet another felony on the heap. The only judges you find befitting are the people you loved the most. I have come to terms that many people's lives were destroyed by my actions. I can only hope not to see those people face to face. I'd rather die without their yells and beatings; I can die without forgiveness.
Luke, I will never see you grow up. My actions probably speak clearer: I didn't want to be there when you grow up. I can only imagine what you will one day achieve. I see you making new friends, finding new interests, making great things, going on dates, having crushes... Then I see you going to a podium to the cheers of a loving crowd, being called to your schoolmates' birthday parties, having your interests and achievements validated by your peers, marrying a girl of your dreams, becoming a dad, having a street bear your name.
I would like to say you will be that man of my imagination. However, I know you won't because that man had haunted me ever since I understood my life was only mine to make. I think he will haunt you too. You will say to yourself that all your misery is acceptable for the time being. It won't be. All throughout your life you will want the world to suffer your payback.
I wanted to give you some advice. I'm supposed to be a dad after all, but I don't think I've figured out anything in my life. It fits then to at least tell you about the thing that I've found the most difficult.
During your life there will come decisions which will be hard to make and easy to avoid. Rarely, but sometimes, you will also confront easy decisions which you can't imagine avoiding. They would seem like such a right way for your life, and that's the saddest part.
When you make enough right calls, maybe that man you see yourself as will escape my imagination and come into existence.
I know you no longer live at out old house, but everything you will need waits for you there in the basement. Full instructions will be on the paper there.
So, make your choice. I wish you luck.
Know that I haven't forgotten about Sally. As much as I feared writing to you, you won't believe how scared I am of writing to her. She doesn't deserve to feel inadequate. You're of the same sort. Through time, you two will become more similar than you could comprehend. I want you to take care of each other.
Sincerely,
Pops
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Comforting lights of red and green successfully feigned warmth in the cold weather. All stands were bustling with customers, smell of the gingerbread sweetened the air, couples kissed under mistletoes with no awkwardness to be felt, kids on Santa's knee boasted about what a great game they got, and Mariah Carey was constantly on loop with some George Michael for good measure. It's perfect recipe for a respectable Christmas season if it hadn't been the end of January. This type of money-grabbing ostentation was something Saturnine Lake residents had grown accustomed to.
"Hey, Tiffany! Long time no see. What've you been up to?"
"Tiffany, dear, I must offer you some gingerbread men. I've just finished making them"
"Ho, ho, ho! Kids, let me introduce you to darling Tiffany here. She is the first name on my nice list, so I want you all to grow up to be just like her. No Timmy, my lists are not alphabetical."
Tiffany couldn't survive 5 seconds before coming across some friendly acquaintance. Heck, she barely knew half of the faces that came up to her. Her hand became heavy after so many incessant hellos. Her night had already been filled with requirements. If she hadn't been so eager to say "yes" all the time, she might've had this night off.
Tiffany reached the fair's makeshift square way too early. To pass the time, she chatted with Jane on the phone. Jane needed some of Tiffany's reassurances for she had begun working in a costume of an abominable snowman. The most humiliating thing of her life, Jane complained with some sad emojis to carry the point home.
Hardly had Tiffany finished sending a heart sticker when someone banged on the glass window of a nearby caffe. It was Tracy. She began waving from the other side of the glass. Tiffany dashed inside. Tracy jumped from her seat and the girls gave each other one hearty hug that exploded with glee.
"Oh my God, Tracy! It's so good to see you. I see that Hawaii did their thing."
"How does it look like? Everyone's been staring at me." Tracy worried. Her newly acquired tan contrasted with her pink hair maybe too starkly.
"Don't care about anybody else. You look gorgeous!"
Hand gesturing, Tracy blushed. "You're saying that just to make me feel better."
"I am serious."
"You're serious in that Tiffany Brzezinski kind of way."
"What's that supposed to mean? Forget it, say, what's up? How was your trip? Where is Sam?"
"The trip was pretty damn neat. The school called me for missing so many classes, but Chelsea said her dad would take care of that. I couldn't believe how warm it is down there. The place is huge. The tracks they got there are...", Tracy clenched her fists, "...so good. I don't know what to say. It was invigorating."
"That sounds so cool. I've wanted to go to Hawaii ever since I saw Lilo & Stitch.
Flying by on Hawaiian Roller Coaster Riiide
," Tiffany transitioned to mellow singing.
"Prepare for disappointment if you are going swimming. It rained cats and dogs for days too many. Only Neil was surfing in that hell zone. The meathead couldn't care less."
"And Sam?"
Tracy shrugged her shoulders. "Hell, how should I know? I barely talked to him. He was more lazy than usual as if he was about to cry any second. Their mom was a bitch sometimes. He was often one giant bitch."
"Don't say that," Tracy looked hurt herself.
"Sorry. If he is my boyfriend then he knows it's all just fun and games between us. I just beg you, don't mention this to Chelsea."
Tiffany crossed her heart, "I swear. What else were you up to besides swimming?"
"Shooting, shooting, shooting, and more shooting," a tingling voice came from behind Tiffany.
She turned around and was faced with Chelsea's gleaming smile. Just like Tracy a moments before, Tiffany jumped into the same friendly embrace as the girls squealed in excitement. The scent of Chelsea's perfume put Tiffany in a sweet place of comfort. That was the money of the Stewart family on display. The clothes, the jewelry, the makeup befitting a queen; everything money could buy, and everything that others couldn't buy.
While she embraced Chelsea, Tiffany could see the countless eyes staring at her general directions, but they probably weren't looking at her. Every male and some females in the caffe leered at Chelsea. Some guys got kicked from their respective partners. Some guys were I-am-gonna-die-if-somebody-opens-a-window levels of old, which creeped Tiffany out. And some were girls.
Chelsea sat next to Tracy, "Tiff, you look so adorable. I love what you did with your hair."
Tiffany's hair was tied in a long braid with a pink ribbon. Tiffany, obviously pleased, promptly put it over her shoulder, "Thank you, Chelsea. You are looking great yourself."
"Thank you so much. Where is that waiter?" Chelsea's gaze roamed the caffe.
Tracy reintroduced the conversation, "Chelsea, Tiffany and I were talking about you and Sam - -"
"Anyway, Tiffany how were your holidays? What was up in Saturnine while we were gone?" Chelsea said.
"There were some events, I guess. I was out for the last five days with the church choir."
"Sounds cute. I hope Vancouver didn't disappoint" Chelsea muttered with her seemingly permanent smirk.
"Yeah, it was a total blast," Tiffany claimed like an excited kid showing her toy collection, "What did you mean by "shooting, shooting, shooting"?"
Chelsea obliged to answer. "Tracy, bring your face next to mine." Tracy eagerly did.
Tiffany then noticed the difference between the two. Unlike Tracy's, Chelsea's skin still had her old alabaster hue.
Chelsea explained, "Those photo sessions went on forever. I was basically dead at the end of each one. My photographer, some gudio asshole, demanded that I don't tan. All of those photo freaks say I look better pale."
"You don't think so?" Tiffany asked meekly.
"I look amazing like this. Where is that waiter, like for real?" Chelsea chuckled.
Tracy joined the conversation, "Yeah, the Italian guy gave real creep vibes."
"Forget about him! Tiff, go back. What exactly happened while we were gone?" Chelsea giggled.
Tiffany fidgeted nervously, "There wasn't much, except for one thing. I feel bad saying it."
