Her smooth tanned legs were wrapped tightly around his pale naked buttocks. My heart pounded, and tears welled up in my eyes as the video that played before me left me speechless.
At first, her both hands grabbed his bare ass, and then her fingers grasped firmly unto his back. He took delight in thrusting into the woman beneath him. As she softly moaned his name, David, tears rolled down my cheeks, blurring my vision.
With each stroke he did, she moaned his name passionately.
"Ah! Mmmh!...Dav…Fuvk me!... Yes…Mmmh!"
David groaned more loudly while pounding even harder in her wet pūssy. The groan of a fool. I couldn't see her face clearly but her moans sounded like a familiar voice. He didn't even use a condom while giving it to her raw hard.
Suddenly, her legs tighten up around David's skyclad ass as she bent down and gave him a blow job. This made David groan more loudly as he held her ponytail hair firmly as she sucked him.
"You fool!" I snarled at him.
The air was thick with tension, as my trembling hand met the unfaithful face of David, the sound of the slap resonating through the room. His cheeks reddened under the impact, but the pain ran deeper than the surface.
"How could you?" I cried, my voice a raw mixture of disbelief and anguish. "I hate you!"
As I stammered and choked on my own words, my world seemed to crumble. I had staked my dreams on the promises he'd once made, but they now lay shattered at my feet.
"Because of you," I continued, my voice catching in my throat, "I refused a role given to me."
Desperation welled in my eyes as I gazed at the man who had betrayed my trust. My boyfriend, attempting to bridge the gap between us, stepped forward, his voice trembling as he tried to calm me. But I recoiled, my anger uncontainable.
"Leave me alone!" I yelled, my voice a powerful crescendo. The emotional turmoil surged within me, demanding release.
With a resolute, stern face, I raised a quivering finger to his face, silencing him. "I'm so done with you, I'm breaking up with you," I declared, my voice wavering. "I don't want to see your face again in my life! Leave my house!" I said to him pointing with my left hand stretched out, my forefinger raised, pointing towards the direction of the door.
In my state of disorder, my strength emerged. I didn't see it coming. It was an immediate reaction of reflexes that in a split second responded to a stimulus without soliciting the involvement of the brain. My right hand struck his left cheek one more time. My left hand dragged his T-shirt as I pushed him forcefully out the door and locked it behind him. The sound of the lock sliding into place was a stark, definitive echo of my decision.
Now alone, my sobs echoed through the empty room. I sank to the floor, my knees drawn up to my chest, my back against the door. The floodgates of my emotions opened, and I covered my face, tears streaming down my cheeks.
My sister, who had been a silent witness to the tumultuous scene from the kitchen, approached me with a gentle touch. She knelt beside me, offering solace and a listening ear.
After a while, as the tears began to subside, I raised my tear-stained face, my eyes red and my nose wet. I sought reassurance, my voice quivering with uncertainty.
"Do you think I can reclaim my career again? Do you think I can be the star I promised Mum and Dad?" I asked for a glimmer of hope amidst my despair.
Lisa, pulling me close and cradling my head, tenderly shifted my hair away from my tear-streaked face. With a soft, loving voice, she offered the comfort I desperately needed.
"Don't worry, dear," my sister reassured me, her fingers soothingly caressing my back. "I believe you can get in again, Alex. You just need to be strong and persistent."
My journey towards healing and reclaiming my dreams had begun, with the support and love of my sister, Lisa, to guide me.
***
The city hummed its usual chorus, indifferent to the tremors shaking my world as I stood, a solitary figure, beneath the marquee of an old theater I once called home. A place where I had refused a lead role in a movie. It had been two years since my name glimmered there, two years since I had been devoured by the voracious machine of the movie industry and spit out a faded echo of a once-rising star. Two years since I graduated from high school, two years since I broke up with David, my ex-boyfriend.
Each step down the Boulevard of Broken Dreams felt leaden, as if the very pavement clung to me, a reminder of the weight of obscurity. Audition rooms were colder now, the eyes that met mine flickered with the recognition of a bygone era, quickly clouded by doubts whispering through the stark spaces.
"Isn't she the girl who refused a role in the newly released movie, Home in Summer? What is she doing here after a long time?" A girl whispered to her colleague.
I felt it—the sharp slice of skepticism, the veiled murmurs as I read lines, fighting to infuse life into words that seemed to wither under the scrutiny. The roles were elusive, slipping through my fingers like smoke, each rejection a smoldering ember against my resolve.
Yet, amid the struggle, a fire kindled within me, a defiance that flared in the face of the relentless storm. With each 'no, we cannot proceed with you', the steel in my spine forged stronger, and in the mirror of my dingy apartment, I painted the warpaint of audacity across my skin.
The industry had changed, and the competition was tempest, wild and unforgiving. But so had I. I wasn't the ingénue who once wept in the wings; I was the tempest herself, a maelstrom of passion and perseverance.
I took to the streets, to the stages of underground theaters, where the gritty and the real were celebrated. I became a chameleon, my talent a spectrum of shades that danced in the dim lights of indie sets and spilled raw emotion onto the laps of those who watched.
The road was arduous, fraught with trials that would bend and break a lesser will. But with each falter, I rose, proof of the tenacity of an artist whose love for the craft was a beacon, guiding her through the wilderness of doubt.
***
Under the soft, amber glow of a late afternoon sun, the bustling city street of Greenville stretched out before me like a river of dreams. My footsteps echoed faintly against the pavement as I wandered, lost in thought. My eyes scanned the urban landscape, absorbing the cacophony of advertising messages that adorned towering billboards above.
Then, like a signal of hope, I saw it: a billboard that loomed large against the sky, a message written in bold, striking letters: "Are you an actor? Seize your moment." The words beckoned to me as if whispered by fate itself. It was a competition for a role in a movie, a chance to grasp the star I had been reaching for. My heart quickened, and my determination surged.
With a sense of newfound purpose, I knew I had to participate. I yearned to turn my passion into reality.
"Hey, Lisa, I saw an ad for a competition. I'm nervous, I don't know what to do. I need you at home, please. Call me once you receive this". I said to my sister via a voice message.
After two minutes, a message pinged into my phone. It was from my sister. It read, 'Okay, sis, I will see you at home in thirty minutes. Love you.' Her response made me know I was not alone.
I went home and waited patiently for Lisa to get back from work. She was working as a bartender in a Chinese restaurant.
"Uhh! The gardener must be insane. Can you believe he disposed of the weeds from the garden into the recycle bin? How on earth will the recycle collectors recycle weeds? Who does that?" my sister snapped while shutting the door.
"Welcome, sis." I greeted her while sitting on the couch.
"Oh! Dear. How are you doing?" Lisa said as she dropped her bag and the keys on the table. A ritual she loves performing each time she comes home late at night. On other nights, she will always throw herself to the sofa in an exhaustive manner. But this night, she sat close to me—on the couch.
"I'm fine". I said with a smirk.
"Sincerely, How are you doing?"
I saw the look of a concerned sister in her eyes. The look of empathy for me in her eyes. At that very moment, I became vulnerable and broke down in tears.
"I'm scared. I'm afraid of being rejected. I don't wanna lose, I…"
"Shhh!" Lisa said interrupting me. "Come here, dear", she whispered as she stretched out and pulled me close to herself. My head rested firmly on her shoulders as she caressed my left arm in an oscillatory motion with her left hand. "You see, self-doubt and fear are two underrated keys to failure. You have to change your mindset. You can only grow if you change it. Win in your mind and you will win in reality. You got this". She stopped caressing my arm and grabbed my arm tightly. This gesture of hers gave me confidence. I had an assurance.
The next day, I headed to the registration office, my optimism and determination fueling my steps. However, I was met with an unpleasant surprise as the registrar, a stern figure who remembered my rude behavior from two years prior, treated me with cold indifference. The past had not been kind to me, and its memories clung to me like a shadow.
Returning home, my spirits were at an all-time low, but my sister, a pillar of unwavering support, kept giving me words of affirmation, vowing that this time I would emerge victorious.
The day of the competition arrived, and I stepped onto the stage with hope and apprehension warring within me. I felt brave for a moment.
Still, as the scenes unfolded, I found myself struggling to breathe life into my character. My performance faltered, and the prize slipped through my fingers like an eel.
Tears filled up in my eyes as the audience's applause eluded me once more. Backstage, I cried my heart out, my sobs echoing the pain of rejection and failure that had become all too familiar. Determined, I enrolled in another competition, but the result was the same—defeat. I tried once more, only to be met with another bitter disappointment. The path to success was a steep, rugged climb, and I would cry myself to sleep after each setback.
My tears were tears of regret, of pain, of rejection, of failure, and downfall. Yet, after the storm, I would find solace in slumber.
I would rest, gather my strength, and endure the relentless cycle of hope and disappointment.
After three long weeks, my older sister, filled with hope, rushed to my room, a spark of excitement in her eyes. She showed me a gig she had found on Instagram while surfing through the metaverse, a role in an upcoming movie, a chance to break free from the cycle of rejection and the incessant 'no's'.
Having been scarred by my previous failures, I initially refused the opportunity.
"No, I can't! I'm a failure, don't you get?" I grumbled.
But my sister's persuasive words and unwavering belief in my abilities finally convinced me to give it another shot.
The next day, I approached the office door with a heart pounding in my chest. I knocked gently, and a voice from within invited me to enter. As I pushed the door open, my heart sank. It was the same woman who had been a judge in my previous audition—the lead role I had turned down two years ago. The woman's gaze was filled with disdain as she coldly terminated my offer, berated me, and ordered me to leave.
I left the woman's office with bitterness in my heart, my dreams once again shattered. I had faced rejection, cruelty, and indifference, but as the tears formed in my eyes, I knew that my constant determination would drive me to continue my journey, no matter the obstacles I faced.
***
The pool's surface shimmered like a sheet of glass, reflecting the muted oranges and purples of dusk. I dangled my legs into the cool embrace of water, feeling the gentle evening breeze play along my skin, ruffling the water and my thoughts alike. Absentmindedly, I watched the ripples, my mind adrift on the current of memory, replaying the voice, the moan, the birthmark, and the sex tape of David and the mysterious girl.
"I know that voice, it sounds familiar. Was David cheating on me with any of my friends or colleagues? How long has this been going on behind my back?" I asked my subconscious mind, rhetorically.
A figure sliced into my reverie, casting waves that lapped against my daydream. Lisa emerged, the droplets on her skin glistening like diamonds in the failing light. It was then, in the tranquility of the moment, that my eyes fell upon the familiar crescent-shaped mark adorning Lisa's thigh, a mirror image to that of the girl with David. My breath hitched, a soft gasp slipping through my lips, "Lisa!" The name echoed, a sharp crack in the evening's soft symphony.
Lisa, caught mid-stroke, turned, her expression sculpted in surprise. The connection hung between us, as tangible as the humid air, my gaze fixed on my sister's wide, disbelieving eyes.