Feel that sunshine|INACTIVE

[maureenjohnson]

A brilliant smile was plastered on Maureen’s face as she walked jauntily down the street, clad in her favourite leather pants and tank top, a small black purse swinging around her left wrist. At the sound of an admiring whistle from a passing cabby, she tossed her dark curls over her shoulder and winked flirtatiously at whomever caught her eye. It was a gorgeous day, the warm sun beating down on the pavement was enough to bring a burst of pleased, if not slightly random, laughter from the diva as she added an extra swing to her hips running across the street, dodging cars.

Although she had no clue where she was headed, all the really mattered was it felt so good to be outside. It was terribly boring staying at home all the time, waiting for Joanne to come home like a good little ‘Honeybear’. Sure, the chances of Joanne being royally pissed off at her later on were very high, but it’s not like this was the first time Maureen went against the lawyer’s wishes.

Running her tongue over her lips, Maureen paused in the middle of the crowded sidewalk and reach into her purse and fish out her chapstick.

“ Damn!” she cursed as she was jostled by the crowd, the tube slipping out of her hands and rolling directly for a subway grate. Maureen dashed after it, only to watch it fall through the metal grate, which chose just then to billow hot, gritty, stinking air right into her face. Her nose wrinkled as she fanned her hands about in an attempt to get ride of the stench. “ Gross.”

[majesticdemise]

Alexander had just been kicked out of a store. Again. He hadn't been shoplifting, no, all he was doing was looking at the goods, fingering them, to maybe taste them in his mouth. He had no money, again, and was stuck on the street, no way to get into any store, to maybe hope to find anyone to let him get food.

So he wandered. He wandered and he wandered. He wandered so much he didn't even know where he was anymore. Nope, he was definitely lost. All he saw were people pushing he around and out of the way. Then he looked up. There were bright neon signs lighting up the day, most of them flashing advertisements about makeup, or clothing lines. Alex then realized that he was in Times Square. Sighing, he tried to turn himself around, but only got turned back to face the way he had before.

Alexander decided to go forward, the way people were pushing him anyway. He ran into a few people, and he mumbled his apologies. He finally got his way to a corner that was emptier than most of the other spots. A girl suddenly dashed down, trying to grab a small tube of chapstick. Alexander looked at her, then walked up. He had a spare tube of his own, he would give to her, if she would accept it.

"Hey..." He said, not sure of how to open up a conversation with her.

[belladonna]

The clock over the Square was slowly and solemnly striking the hour, when Belladonna paced the sidewalk uncertainly. She had paid for a coffee, and looked down at it with a slight contraction in her brow. Just where had it gone wrong? The uncertained stage, wrapt in darkness, had drawn her with its hidden mystery. Within drama, she saw the theatre at such close range, and she had seen those actors offstage. Their profiles, so ill-passionate and laughing. And that lead! The very part Belladonna had auditioned for weeks ago, lost to a fumbling actress who clearly hadn't studied drama for just a day. They had sat about on chairs in little groups laughing, joking, telling tales, and complaining while the tuning of the orchestra furnished an accompaniment to the buzz of voices.

There ran through Belladonna a tremor of fear, strange and depressing. She did not look up again, but felt that a horrible thought was encircling her head. It had been so long since her last part, and the lack lustre performances of her peers - who were easily being herded - was a disgrace. Was passion dead now?

'Dirty goth!' She was taken by surprise, suddenly seized by a running youth who jostled her arm so hard that her coffee emptied onto her. Impulsively, she pressed her hand and cried out with the pain as the teenager fled away with delighted laughter.

Those standing or passing hastily moved away from the scene, as the girl's round, smooth face bordered upset. Belladonna had come straight from the theater. What she had seen disquieted her; she felt within herself a dull pain of disillusionment and hesitation - and now with the added burning. The skin of her white hand maked a painful looking red. She held it sadly with her head bowed, not only was passion dead, but faith in humanity too, it seemed.