LOGINCharlieI'd never wanted to rip Francesca apart more than I did right now. I should have known this was just some dirty power-play game from the moment we saw her at the restaurant. For months now she had been bittering Nortica up, pretending to be her friend. It was all an act to get back at her own father. My instincts were right about not trusting her; I just didn't know she would stoop this low. Nortica was a mess by the time we got back home and I knew there was only one person she needed more than ever, her mum. “I shouldn't have gone looking for him; I should have left it alone,” Nortica cried as her mum held her on our couch. “You were doing what you thought was right,” her mother comforts her, stroking her hair. I hate that Nortica is blaming herself for this when she's done nothing wrong. The blame should be on Francesca. “This is all Fran's fault,” I bitterly say as I pace the room. “She tricked you into meeting him today just to ambush him with some revenge scheme sh
I must have tried on every item of clothing I own, searching for the right one, but every time I thought I had it, my mind talked me out of wearing it.“What about this one?” I asked Charlie, after enlisting his help. I step out of our walk-in wardrobe in a flattering white pantsuit combination. “It’s great if you’re planning on running for mayor,” he chuckles, irritating me. “I really don't think you need to dress so formally though.”“I’m meeting my biological sister; I want to make a good impression,” I argue. I look at myself in the long mirror and start to see what he means; the pantsuit is way too over the top for a casual lunch. I don't want her thinking I'm pretentious. “If she judges you for what you're wearing then that says more about her character than it does about yours,” he says as he comes up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist. “Just be yourself.”Be myself, a 24-year-old marketing manager at one of the biggest food delivery companies in the country. That
Charlie“We should order pizza for dinner,” Nortica suggested on our drive home from the office. I hadn't had a chance to talk to her when I returned from the office supply store. The manager of my Brisbane branch called with an emergency, and we spent the afternoon troubleshooting until we resolved the issue. “We bought groceries last night,” I remind her. “Although the thought of having someone else cook an easy meal is very appealing.”I'm easily swayed after the day I've endured. If we can go just one day this week without any of the branches having some sort of system failure or internet outage then I will be happy. She takes her phone out and pulls up the app for the takeaway pizza place near our house. “I'm guessing you'll want a Hawaiian,” she states and I screw my face up in disgust. “Absolutely not,” Does she not know me at all? “Pineapple doesn't belong on pizza.”I swear we’ve had this discussion before. “You might have to get used to it if you're going to Hawaii nex
I’d been staring at my laptop screen for the last twenty minutes, trying to figure out what to write back to this “sister” of mine. Do I unload everything about myself and ask her about her life over a series of messages or do I just jump straight to " let's meet”? I don't know this person so I certainly don't want to scare her off but I also didn't want to waste time, going backwards and forwards with endless messages of things I’d much rather ask in person. I decided to start out simple; we hadn't exchanged identities but I felt that she, at the very least, deserved to know who she was communicating with. I began typing but nothing appeared on the screen. I wait, thinking there could just be a bit of lag since I had just booted my laptop up and it may be running slow. The screen goes black and an error code appears. I hit the power button to turn the laptop off but when I try to start it up again nothing happens. My mind starts to panic, thinking about all the projects I've lost
CharlieMy girlfriend is a hustler. She's able to get me to do whatever she asks with just the simple promise of pleasure. The sex is phenomenal, well worth selling my soul for but having to cook dinner for the devil is the price I'm paying to get the pleasure. Maybe if Francesca weren't such a manipulative bitch then she wouldn't be eating alone. Nortica believes Fran has done a complete turnaround and suddenly become a nicer person, but I'm not convinced. She made my girl feel like shit the first time they met; I'm not as forgiving of that as Nortica is. “Do you know, in the whole time that I've known you Charlie, I don't think you've ever cooked for me before,” Fran quips as we sit down at the dining table with our bowls of risotto. I want to tell her that I had to fight the temptation to poison her food, knowing it would take sex off the menu for myself later. Stay polite, get through this and be rewarded. “I guess the opportunity never came up,” I say as I stab my fork throug
The internet was still out when we got home, and the storm seemed to be intensifying. “Do you think the power will go out?” I asked Charlie when the lights started to flicker. “I hope not, I was going to put through a grocery order for tonight,” he said, wandering over to the fridge where he tapped on the smart screen. “Shit, with the internet down I can't order.”He's acting like this is the only way to get groceries, and that's when it dawns on me that, to him, it probably is. “Have you ever been to the supermarket before?” I ask and stop to think it over. “I can't remember,” he admits, sheepishly, making me laugh. “When I lived at home we had a housekeeper who would take care of the shopping and I've only ever done online ordering since living here or had Anna go get me what I need.”It's little things like this that showcase how different our worlds are. My mother did a huge grocery shop weekly and would drag me along to help. “We are going to the supermarket, right now,” I d







