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Tainted Hollywood_

Prostitution is all there is to Hollywood. Although masked by intricate scripts played by women whom portray a character to be dainty and pure, all men across the nation know these women are illusionists. Placed in public eye to bring clientele to the one man that holds their ticket to fame, Cesar Lockwood. A man so revered in Hollywood, many believed him to be untouchable. Almost proving to be true, if not for the woman that caught him in the act of his only flaw, Beatrice Johnson. ************ Beatrice Johnson was a woman life had seemed to loath. Drugs being her only form of salvation from the hazed period of her youth. The only time she decided to rid herself of such fixation, ended with betrayal. Her sanity not being enough for her husband, whom would rather bed a whore over his lawful wife. Not that is mattered. It only proved that exhaling the fumes to her only familiarity, remained her salvation. Such salvation, later gifting her leverage over the man that had no flaws...or so it appeared, as her drug allowed her to encounter the man in a compromising position over a nonconsensual male. Tch. What will his clients think of such a sight? Surely, he'd lose face?...If word got out. She'd obviously need some form of compensation for her troubles. ----- Do Not Own Rights Over Cover. All Credit Goes To The Photographer.

NataliaNava296 · Historia
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19 Chs

Do Not Disturb

She never cared for the high people actively chased for. To her...remaining of sound mind was the finest quality of drug she had ever experienced. She made the achievement to obtain such desire for two years, two blissful years of ignoring the slight crave for her normal. Never once thinking to reminiscent over the past she buried for a new beginning....until...until she realized the life she built for herself was nothing more than her brains delusional haze.

Now all she could tolerate was to get lost in the fumes of her normal. Reveling in delirium, the smoke she inhaled created her to prolong her exhale as its familiarity brought tranquility to her absent mind. Outstretching her body, she lost herself in the music that had somehow barely registered and filled her mind with its full capacity. Closing her doe eyes, her limbs moved ever so slightly in a rhythmic pattern.

Playing with her drug, she pushed her tongue and exhaled, creating a ring of smoke that wafted through the air. Abruptly, a perky voice made itself within her domain, pulling her joint out of her haven, she faintly opened her eyes annoyed by the sudden interruption.

Paying more focus on the words the overly cheerful voice uttered, she scoffed twirling her cigarette unconsciously between her fingers.

"...our ever in town. Stop by our studio and get a taste of what fame truly is."

"Prostitutes." She muttered, eyeing the radio with quite a bit of distaste. Twisting her body to lay on her back, her focus remained on the whore that spouted words innocently disguised. Her judgement turning into awe from the shameless audacity the whore presented herself in. Then again it was her job as an 'actress' to place a façade upon her company.

Moving to turn off the radio, she let out a sigh, pressing the cigarette on the intricately designed ashtray. Pulling on her long limbs, she awaited for the satisfying crack, before fully getting up to retrieve a glass of water.

Letting the cool liquid slide past her plump lips and trickle down her throat, loud pounding rang throughout her home, interrupting her only true moment of peace. Slamming the glass against her counter, she crossed her arms at hearing the desperate voice that soon followed the pounding.

"Beatrice! Beatrice! Open the god damn door!" He yelled scornfully.

Huffing at the mans useless demands, she prowled away from her kitchen to her bedroom, choosing to ring for the police and alert them of the man whom would simply not leave her alone. Complete with her call, she found her stash, carefully rolling up a marijuana joint to begin anew. Listening in to the man that so desperately called out for her, knowing full well how her drugged up state of mind would be the only manner in which she would be able to enjoy herself.

"Beatrice! I did not mean for this to happen! The baby she birthed is nothing but a bastard. A Bastard. Open The Door Now!" He continued. Growing more aggressive with each passing moment, she relished the effect she had on him, letting out an airy giggle at the man's desperation.

Falling into a trance from the clouded room she resided in, Beatrice was brought back to life to the silence that flooded once more into her home.

Placing her cigarette in the ashtray solely woven for her, she crawled from the floor of her bedroom to the bed that loomed over her being. Engulfed by the sheets that simply reeked of the stench she had created as a welcome to her past that was now her present.

Fluttering her eyes shut, her resolve solidified, choosing to let go of the dream she had hoped to happen. Treating these past two year as a mere fantasy. Her mentality shifted to the twenty two year old that had yet to gain a taste of sanity. A feeling of dread lingering in her mind as to how she would manage to make it to work the following day, before falling into a fitful slumber away from the chaotic world that turned her bitter.