She thought her beauty could get her anything. After all, it meant nothing to her but it meant so much to others. That was until she met him. Surprise!
*
You sit down on a stool at the end of the bar and look around. Your eyes rest on me as I take a drink from my glass. I smile inwardly, and enter into a silent conversation with you as if you're actually sitting here beside me. It's a conversation I've had many times and probably will again. I just wish you were someone else, someone I would rather be talking to. But you're here and he's not. In fact, he won't be here tonight or any night. As usual, that thought causes a flash of pain but it seems to be less each time I feel it. After all, it's been two years.
But, as I said, you're here tonight, so my imaginary conversation goes something like this.
Hi. You're probably asking yourself right now,
"Who the hell is she? I know I've seen her around but I just can't place the name with the face."
You would be right: you would recognize me if I was the face behind that glass screen, surrounded by that black plastic frame and the studio backdrop was behind me. Right! My name is Megan Reilly and I'm an anchor on Channel 9, a channel you get right here in your little city.
The problem you're having is that we're sitting in a bar on seventh street in downtown Podunk City, USA, not my TV studio. You keep looking back at me as you sit at the bar, trying to convince yourself that it would be worth it to come over and try to hit on me. But then I see the hesitation in your eyes. Hell, I've seen it so many times before, and it was always the same reason. Just look at me! Have you ever seen anyone sitting in a bar alone that looked like me? Of course not! Beautiful women, especially ones that look like me with my long, wavy, platinum-blonde hair; high cheekbones under clear, translucent skin; eyes so blue most people thought they had to be contacts; a body that made men drool; those women never sit alone in a bar in Podunk City. And I
am
sitting here alone. Why, was a story in itself and I am going to tell you all about it.
First you have to know who I really am. Not the public face and body that everyone sees. Not the voice of the network writers who tell me what to say. Not the story that holds your attention for the three days we allow it to dominate the airwaves. No, the real person behind all of that crap is the one who you have to understand to understand my story.
Next, know that regardless of how much you love to look at me and how much you think you admire me, I loved to look at myself and I admired myself even more! Sound narcissistic? It is! Massively so! I am a narcissistic bitch! I have been since my early childhood when everyone told me how beautiful I was. I was a beautiful baby who grew into a beautiful child and later into a beautiful young woman. All through growing up, I remember people telling me how beautiful I was. I was almost ten when I suddenly realized that when men told me I was beautiful, it sounded different than when women would tell me the same thing.
That's when I realized that my looks and my body were things that men valued far more than women. My men teachers in grade school were far easier on me and gave me better grades than the women teachers. The same carried over into high school. I did nothing at that time to earn those marks but I did understand that my looks were the key. I learned to smile mysteriously at the men teachers and the young men who surrounded me all through school, and as I graduated grade school, then high school and went on to college, I began to perfect those gifts that God gave me.
You also have to understand how I grew up. My parents were strict evangelicals and I was forbidden to date or to go out with even a group of girls during high school. I went all the way through high school as a virgin, and not only that, I had never been seriously kissed by a boy. I was almost eighteen before I went out with a boy for the first time and that was prom night. I was allowed to go because my dad was in the hospital with a massive stroke and mom was with him so I was staying with my aunt who said I could go.
As a date, it was a bust! He was nervous at being with me, the most beautiful girl in school, and I was nervous being with him, the team quarterback, the most popular boy in school. I was afraid that my ignorance would turn him off, and he was afraid that his imagined lack of experience with beautiful women would make me think less of him. Together, we were hopeless. The night ended before midnight and while many girls lost their virginity that night, I went to sleep, my virginity intact and my mind confused.
Shortly after that, my dad died and my mom kept me home under a tight reign. That disastrous date was my first and only date with a boy until I graduated and went out on my own. I graduated high school, still chaste and still unsure of what I could accomplish. I was about to go out on my own with a full scholarship to college and while I was anxious to be on my own, I was also afraid of what I didn't know.
That confusion lasted only until my first semester in college. I was staying on campus in a room with three other girls and when I was asked out by a boy in my freshman English class, I accepted. My roommates tried to prepare me for my first real date but it was a bust again. He was nervous as usual and I was afraid, as usual. It was like that until I went out with a senior boy who was very popular and who didn't seem to be awed by my beauty. He took me out for some dancing, then a few drinks later at the lake where we sat on a blanket looking at the moonlight reflecting off the lake. It should have been very romantic but all he wanted to do was paw me and get into my pants. Fortunately for him, I was of the same mind. That was the night I lost my cherry and it hurt like hell!
I talked to my roommates about what happened and believe it or not, they were a great source of help to me. I learned from them a lot of what I needed to know, but that night opened my eyes to my charms over men and I began to be more selective in my choices. I now knew what it was like to have a boy between my legs and it was OK, I guess. It wasn't a turn-on for me but they sure liked it. I let a few more take me that first year but more and more, I began to keep my legs shut and my eyes wide open. Opportunities presented themselves to me as the year went on. I quickly learned that a smile and a wide-eyed response made some of the male teachers look twice at me and my grades seemed to respond accordingly. Just like high school! I began to use that mysterious smile I learned in high school and my grades continued to improve. I even used it with some of the more butch women teachers with the same results. I was learning!
I used my ample charms in my sophomore year for the first time to seduce one of my professors. I was having trouble with my first math course and I needed the credit to go on in my chosen profession in Communications. I decided one night as I sat in my dorm room studying that I would try something overt. In other words, I would actually do something to make him give me a good grade. I was twenty and he was closer to sixty but I decided he would be no challenge for my charms. So, after making an appointment, I found myself one afternoon on my knees in his office with the door closed and locked. What he asked and what I gave was enough to give me an 'A' for his course. He made no trouble when I told him that was the price for my silence.
The next two years were much the same. My dates were reserved for those who could do me some useful favor. That included professors, student advisors, student assistants. My grades were high and I had no trouble navigating my final years. I found during those years that using my looks and my body for personal gain had only good consequences. They were satisfied and I got what I wanted. So much for those dire warnings from my evangelical parents about the consequences of my actions!
The only area where I actually applied myself honestly was in front of the camera. The camera loved me and I adored it. Together we were a team that even those who hated me and my looks agreed was one that had a great future. My life was preordained. I would be a media star!
Fast forward a little. I graduated at twenty three with outstanding grades and a recommendation from all of my instructors whose opinion counted. I applied for and got a position with CNN as a junior reporter. I began to film on-site interviews and in only four years had a part-time gig on weekends. I parlayed that into a once a week show doing human interest stories and finally after paying my dues for seven years, got an anchor position in prime time. My face was known by almost anybody who had a TV set and I was making a nice living.
During this time, my personal life was on hold. I dated a little, but as with college, my dates were with people who could help me in my career. Sex was not something I gave out much, and it certainly wasn't free. I was known as serious and cold and not available, but a very select few had sampled the charms that I had in ample quantity and the rewards to me were well worth it. After all, I needed to maintain my public integrity but for those who could move me up the ladder fast, I could be had.
To be honest, sex held little appeal for me because I had never enjoyed it that much. Oh, I had very competent lovers at times and they were able to draw me out as much as possible but it was clear they enjoyed it more than I did. I had tried oral, anal, missionary and doggy-style, cowboy style and some sideways sex. I enjoyed it all but no more than delivering a good story in front of the camera. Actually, I loved the camera more than I liked sex. I learned early on to fake it most of the time and I had gotten very good at that. I had to fake it almost all the time.