Messy Mya Novels & Stories

Mia continued, her tone playful, “but it’s obvious you’re more than that. You must be very important to Maurice.” Martin’s lips curved into a small smile. “We practically grew up together.” “Well then, let me properly introduce myself. I’m Mia Mayer,” she said with a light laugh. “Though sometimes I still slip and say Mia Rivers, or even Mia Bryan.” Hearing her claim his name with such ease made Maurice’s chest tighten with pride. He held her closer, unwilling to let her even stand to shake Martin’s hand.

I went up to my room to change, a pair of clothes I'd bought at a thrift store so I could look for a job folded on top of the desk, ready to be put on, I put them on and ran downstairs, feeling more and more hopeful. Bob explained to me on the way about the company his daughter worked for, and this made me very excited. It was a very famous cosmetics company, Make-Pró. It was a new brand, about five years old, but it was highly promising, many bloggers were talking about it, and I had her entire collection of lipsticks in my purse, which was cowardly stolen as soon as we arrived at the house Bob had given us in the Bronx.

MIles felt disgusted, so when he was on the call with Mia, he went to the bathroom and washed his face with a cleanser; after washing for three times, he wiped his face and came out from the bathroom.? It’s Mia, who was in the video call, sighed helplessly, she also doesn’t like that Alma dared to touch her man, but it seems like she doesn’t do anything because Miles' words were enough to piss her off; why she[Mia] need to dirty her mouth and hands for a woman who is worse than Shopia in front of her husband?

Yet. ** Maisie wasn't in the mood for anything. Nothing at all. Her body was itching real bad... The disease was getting to her, she knew it. It was gradually eating her, devouring her from her dyed pitch black hair down to her painted mascara face and down to the soft soles of her feet. But for a few seconds none of that mattered, nothing mattered at all; not school, nor her ailment, not Russell or Amaya, all what mattered was right there, at her front, like a poison filled dish for a puppy. She couldn't help but freeze so as she heard the reporter.