Pick Up Artist Novels & Stories

I whispered into the empty room. [Why did the stream cut out just now?] [Alison's dead? How did that happen? And why's her skin missing? That's so scary!] [Out of the original six, only three players are alive… And how is the pick-me girl still here? It makes zero sense. Also, why is Lonnie going to the GM's office? Dude's digging his own grave!] [Wait, why is the pick-me girl following him?] "This is the GM's office?" Lonnie muttered.

Some of them were in dire need, but regardless of that, the need shouldn’t lead them to whatever they were dealing with. “I understand that you are here seeking for sponsors, but I do not sponsor a project that I do not see benefitting or appealing. Though some of you have passed through my right hand’s review. Mine was the one that determined it, and I have chosen to not sponsor any of the projects.” Arturo said, looking at Anika. “First, I do not work with lawyers or cops. My apologies, but I have my own terms in this, and after investigating, some of you did indeed turn out being them. The issue is right now, you have a nice little question mark over your heads, and I believe that you kno

"And what's the name of your piece miss?" "Seasons, it was my final project at school and surprisingly it did really well," I said and they snapped their fingers. "But please, Laid Down and Bold Rest are extremely amazing, go check them out," I said and they left. "Professional artist? Featured here? You?" Michael asked and I cocked my head to the side. "Surprisingly I really thought you'd have tabs on me this entire time," I said crossing my arms over my chest. "Guess I was fooling myself."

“You’re not any woman. I grabbed you because you’ve been in my head for the last damn month and it’s drivin’ me crazy. Who are you?” Macie snorted. “That is the worst pick up line I’ve ever heard.” Those blue, blue eyes narrowed. “That wasn’t a pick up line.” “Good thing, because it sure as hell isn’t working.” “Look. Let’s start over. I’m an artist. And I’d like—” “—to show me your etchings?” She snickered. “Har har. I really am an artist.” “Yeah? So was the last guy I was involved with. Been there, done that, have the tie-dyed T-shirt and the roach clip to prove it. Move along, Picasso.”

It was about Dave, raw and unfiltered, the ache of wanting more than stolen dressing-room fucks. By mid-day, across town, Dave's penthouse was basking in the day light, Carla's snores a faint echo from the guest room after their hotel wreckage. He'd crashed hard, body bruised from Carlos's marathon, mind replaying the director's lazy thrusts and that ring on the assistant's finger, a vulnerability Dave could exploit. But sleep shattered when his phone lit up: a notification from Spotify, algorithmic tease. Artists to Watch 2025: Featuring rising stars like Hope Tala and... Henry? The preview clip was from Paulina's concert, Henry's acoustic strums weaving magic, the crowd's cheers a tidal wa

That evening, I took my usual walk along the beach. On my way back, I picked up a bouquet of white roses. When I passed the dessert stand, the vendor smiled and handed me a freshly baked berry tart, saying it was the last one of the day, and she wanted me to try it. I took it and thanked her with a smile. The sunset was slowly spreading across the sky, like the first page of a new life being turned. The wind blew over me, carrying the ocean breeze, and something in my chest loosened.

Steadying her breath, she peeked through the scope leaning both elbows on a cushioning bed, headset on while getting dreamy listening to Fall Out Boy's ' Immortals'. Aiming for the window across the building. Ready to pull the trigger any moment now. Just a little more. The music stopped. "Ugh! what now Ed?" She knows he’s the only one who calls on a bad timing. Always ruining the mood in her. (ROLL OVER) "What do you think of me, a dog?" (ROLL OVER) "Tch! fine," she tossed over, "what are you so fussed about?" The painting hanging on the wall suddenly fell. Ace grabbed DRAG and move over to the bed's headboard.