Dates were fun for some people but for Stella McCartney, it was the opposite of what she heard from those damned fairy tales, go on a date, feel those butterflies squirm your stomach, make flirty gestures, end up kissing and spending the night together on your bed.But for Stella McCartney, it was surely going to be calls from her parents on why she just wasn't doing it right.She was trying her best, but she couldn't just work with this guy. He. It. Everything was impossible."Tell me about work." He asked that question for the third time in a row.She grit her teeth silently, regretting why she wore her favorite earrings, when this man wouldn't even acknowledge her. Didn't he notice? Damn, she hated dates."Stella dear. You aren't paying attention." Doctor Rodriguez said silently to her, his mouth stuffed with bread.For fuck sake, Doc, I would rather be at home watching my worst movie than be here, but because this was her parents, her family command, she had to do this."Sorry. I

Those innocent blue eyes stirred him into a world he had no idea of. Her eyes were soft, rather dim to be exact, but she looked so pure, so sweet that he wanted to say something.He wasn't that good with kids, but he wanted to be good. For this little girl that he didn't even know her name.He crouched on his knees, his eyes softening, "It's okay."The little girl stretched her hand forward and squealed. "Okay, mommy told me to always be polite."Well, your mother sounds like the greatest person ever.He wanted to pat her hair, run his hands down those silky chestnut hair, but instead he stared at her, watched her run back to a man standing afar off.Maybe, that's her father. He sighed heavily."Uncle Liam!" She chanted, that big bright smile on her perfect face, "Watch me run."So little.So pure.So fucking innocent.He jabbed his fingers together, why should he be caring about some little kid when he got his own shit to handle? He turned back and walked away, the regret still clamp

Lin Shannel brewed coffee, added a cube of sugar, and seasoned it with milk, before picking up the mug, lifting it towards her lips, and drinking slowly. Just her everyday routine, morning coffee, but why in the hell did it hurt so badly? Why did the liquid substance feel so old? So worn out. She sighed. She couldn't do this. Placing the mug back on the table, she kicked off her slippers, and walked towards the living room. Her once bustling room was filled with no one, the kids were off to visit their paternal grandfather, the sight was not that good to watch. It reminded her of her early days when she joined the industry. So lonely. She sighed, she had her schedule ready, but suddenly, she didn't feel like going anywhere, she just wanted to stay home, cry in her pillow and finalize the divorce preparations. Her Asher. They were going to split, the back of her neck hurt so much, the man she loved was going to divorce him without blinking her eye lids. Footsteps growled from the

"You look like shit."Shit was an understatement for how he was feeling right now, just a day later. He found himself on the road with Sky, his heart was pummeled right into a deep wound.He could never get out of this, and then his dumb of a friend had suggested that getting out of a heartburn was by driving it out. No, he didn't do the driving, Sky did.He sighed against the backseat, "Sky, I don't think this is a good idea."His friend gazed at him from the rearview mirror, before raising his lips, that ever so gracious smile filling his lips, "Why not? What did she do to you anyways?""Sky." He growled hurtfully. He couldn't bring himself to say the truth, that Zoey Hart said they weren't in the right world hurt even more.He was different, he didn't reek of money, so yeah, she just couldn't be with him, and that word fucking hurts."It's enough, I don't want to talk about it." His lips quizzed up, before he stared out of the window, looking at the way passers-by flooded the stree

Whip. Watch. Sip. Definitely, those words did not go well.Miranda felt her gaze scorching as she stared at the dancers in front of her while sipping a glass of whiskey, or wait, was it bourbon? Who cares.Apparently, her mother had asked her to interview this dancers for their company show on Thursday. Miranda didn't have time for this, but for the purpose of self-humanity, she was trapped in her basement, watching the dancers twist their bodies like fish while sipping a cup of cold freaking-Her assistant nudged her elbow, something she considered annoying."What?" Her face was breathless of anger, watching men and woman in their thirties shake their bodies like amoeba was even more worse."Do you like that dancer waistline?" Of course, her assistant thought things with another mind, dirty mind. "You look like you could get laid."Damn. She wanted to get laid, but not someone like him, and their mind wandered off to Rafael, his strong body guiding hers. Those muscles, strong and ton