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So Ashamed Of The Trouble I've Caused... [P- Shrewd and I]

Postby Kallile » 10/14/2012 4:48 PM

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The month between her late night limo ride and now had been nothing short of hellish for Kyrie. Paparazzi were always swarming her home or areas where she had been spotted and while the even-tempered model did her best to stay that way some of the questions proved difficult. Mostly, pushing to know if Cristobal had been one of the “pretty boy” fanboys/models paid to walk around and get people to oogle them or if he had been something else. The questioning on his stork origin made her uncomfortable, and often the model would just excuse herself and make a hasty exit to let Seza play bad cop and chase the prying cameras away.

But today there would be no such help. With her parents off on some venture her father had deemed ‘a great time’, her brother busy with his career, and Madeline…well, being Madeline her family was unable to help her. It just so happened that Seza was unavailable today as well—out with a cold. With the newest reviews and change orders needing to go out to her gaming company, Seza had no choice but to bring them there herself.

It had always been too risky to send mail from her own home, and for years Seza had used a service to safely get Kyrie’s work where it needed to go. She had left Kyrie specific details about how to find the place and where to drop it off and fill out her portion of the paperwork. Reading it over it really didn’t seem so difficult…just drive, hand over the goods and sign a few papers. With any luck she would be in and out before anyone had a chance to recognize her. She couldn’t imagine fellow professionals would be hell-bent on delving into her non-existent love life, but stranger things had happened. Tucking the package under her arm and getting into a much more toned down car, Kyrie took off.

~*~
The entire drive had been an uneventful one, really. Kyrie even had a smile resting on her face for most of it. Sometimes it was nice to forget that she had fame right on her tail and just behave like a normal member of society. However the closer she got to the building the more her face began to fall. This all looked strangely familiar…and then she pulled up to the address Seza had given her. The model’s heart hit the floorboard as she looked at the all-too-familiar building. This…this was where they had dropped him off. This was where he worked.

Panic swept over her as she tried to think of what to do. He had never actually taken her up on the offer to stay friends. He must really hate her, maybe he even really did forget about her. She sucked in a deep breath and gathered herself back together. No. She had driven all this way. This was the place Seza had always trusted and she was going to keep giving them her business despite what one of the workers might feel about her. Heck, with any luck maybe he was already out of the building and he would never have to know.

Painfully she pried herself from the car and straightened her long dress. It was void of the left shoulder, while the right hung down in an almost Roman sense. In fact the entire outfit looked rather Roman in theme—the dress lacking a pattern and the splashes of color coming purely from her jewelry. She didn’t look exactly like a model, but she did look like a savvy business woman. A sexy, savvy business woman; if such a thing even existed.

Walking as confidently as possible, Kyrie tried to keep most of her face hidden behind her wide sunglasses and rolling curls of brown hair. Now…where did that note say to go from here? Special room since it was a speedy delivery? Front desk? The model was at a loss.
"I have been hidden, scorned, adored, worshiped, forsaken, coveted and banished more times than I care to count. But the one thing all those experiences cannot steal from me is the gentle soul I was born with, the kind heart I have molded, and the bright ideals for the future that have lit my way through the darkness of the past."




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[1]

Postby Jaykobell » 10/14/2012 6:00 PM

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"If you don't want to pay, then deliver your goddamn mail yourself!"

The scream echoed through the entire little reception area, with a loud, rage-filled bang as the phone was bashed right back onto its base. Probably another client lost because his temper was too fiery to do something like secretarial work.

If things hadn't gone so well for Kyrie, they hadn't gone so well for Cristobal, either. While he'd done his best to hide the evidence and to prevent the news from getting out more than they needed to, his efforts had only been a tiny grain of salt compared to TV and the radio channels spreading out the word. He sometimes rigged the radio or the TV at work in the hope no one would end up hearing about it. Of course, that obviously didn't prevent anybody from hearing the story at some point in time. Following that, many had figured out it was really Cristobal who'd ended up in that limo. Although he kept denying it, some coworkers wouldn't drop it and kept harassing him daily, hoping he would eventually break and admit it just so they would finally leave him alone. Some went so far as to ask if they'd done anything sexual while others had asked where the said model lived or if Cristobal had her number.

Quite a few of them had ended up with black eyes and bruises, and so had Cristobal. With the whole building somehow finding a way to get on his nerves and to start fights almost daily, Cristobal had eventually been demoted and relocated to play the uninteresting and rage-inducing receptionist position. Never before had he ever wanted to just stay home and forget his entire life was even happening. He figured that he stayed home and drank enough, the nightmare might just dissipate and let him wake up to how things used to be.

Unfortunately, said nightmare was quite real, and there wasn't much for Cristobal to do to change things.

He was still infuriated at the conversation he'd just had, staring at that phone so hard, one would expect the thing to just explode right there. He was probably going to rage at the person that had just come in; or he probably would've if it hadn't been someone he knew.

The reception area was small. A little room with a desk right at the far back, with the walls littered with different packages, information pamphlets, and other such things to help with packaging, mailing, and shipping. Costs were listed, estimated delivery dates, delivery methods, and many other things of that nature. There was a door further down that probably lead to the back and that was for the employees. Other than that, it was just the lone reception desk and the lone receptionist handling it.

Despite him already being frustrated, Cristobal had no idea how to take things from here. Yes, he did remember her. Did she remember him? If anything, she probably did hate him now, considering the media had been all over her for over a month or so because of their escapade. She probably thought he was a freak now, too, just like everyone else.

Thinking it was better to get this over with as quickly as possible rather than letting things sit, Cristobal cleared his throat a little as he looked in Kyrie's general direction. "Can I... help you?" he asked awkwardly, the words sounding forced, despite the fact they were literally the same words that he repeated every single day, every single time someone entered the building.
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Re: So Ashamed Of The Trouble I've Caused... [P- Shrewd and

Postby Kallile » 10/14/2012 6:39 PM

The slamming of the phone drew Kyrie’s attention instantly from her list of things to remember and to the front desk where….oh God. At first Kyrie wasn’t sure if she should acknowledge him as if she remembered him or not. He had told her to forget that they had ever met. Pretend the whole thing had never happened. Even if she would have wanted to, she definitely couldn’t now. Not that she had ever wanted to. “Um…yes. I’m new at this so you may have to walk me through this.” She began, trying to be as casual as possible. She would do her best not to make a scene, she would do her best to respect what he had asked of her, she…

As she came closer to the desk she could see the fading black circle around his eye still lingering. All prior thoughts of casualness melted instantly into nonexistence. Taking a quick look around the small lobby to make sure no one was there to at least witness up close, she then looked around for whatever cameras might be recording and quickly leaned over the counter and placed her finger on the package to make it appear on recordings as though she might be in deep discussion about how it was to be shipped. Those were not the words than came out of her mouth, however.

“Cristobal…what happened?” She asked quietly, her eyes clearly looking at his blackened one. It hadn’t been that long since their little whirlwind of a night and the injury was not fresh. Was this because of his newfound publicity? Because…of her? She resisted the urge to reach out and gently touch his face as though that would heal the injury somehow. She didn’t want the believe it could even possibly be because of her. After all the things she could just vaguely remember him telling her, she didn’t want to give more cause to torment him. “Are you alright?”

She leaned back a little, surveying the rest of him for any sign of abuse. Of course he was a man and quite capable of taking care of himself…but Kyrie had caused it. On some level there was shame to be found in each mark he had that showed. The model thanked her sunglasses for obscuring the fact that she was getting misty-eyed at the very thought of what he might have been enduring in all this. She had never once mentioned his name and had thanked every star in the sky the workplace had never been named…but what if all the tip-toeing still hadn’t been enough to protect him from the backlash of infamy?
"I have been hidden, scorned, adored, worshiped, forsaken, coveted and banished more times than I care to count. But the one thing all those experiences cannot steal from me is the gentle soul I was born with, the kind heart I have molded, and the bright ideals for the future that have lit my way through the darkness of the past."




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Postby Jaykobell » 10/14/2012 8:24 PM

Thankfully, whether not or she remembered him, it didn't seem to matter. Kyrie answered Cristobal's question as anyone would, with a little bit of uncertainty, but with everything they needed from him. That didn't mean it would be any easier to do; he hated every single aspect of this job, and whether he was serving a nice or a grumpy client mattered very little to him. The job was unbearable and uneventful one way or another.

Of course, it didn't quite turn out that way, and the model had to break the spell. Where Kyrie tried to get closer, Cristobal slipped further back into his chair, trying to keep the distance between the two at least at an arm's length. Well, if she'd forgotten the night, she certainly hadn't forgotten his face; regardless of it having been hidden in that newspaper. Although, to be fair, it did look a lot more damaged than when they'd first met. The black eye was there, but his overall appearance looked beaten up.

He grumbled at her questions, this supposed "care" that she gave to pretty much everybody, seemingly. He had to bite his tongue — very hard — to not tell her to stop giving him this fake care and this fake interest. He did remember how she'd gone ballistic over that, and he seriously didn't need someone else blowing a fuse today. "Psh. I beat people up, and people beat me up. That's all there is to say about it," Cristobal answered bluntly, without adding anything else, like explaining why he had this urge to punch everyone every day.

The last question was like pouring salt — a pretty big pouch, too — into the wound, and again, he had to bite his tongue. If he ended up asking Kyrie if she had learned her lesson the first time and why she was talking to him again, it would just rub her the wrong way. She had to speak to him for the order, sure, but she was talking to him on a personal level and that was what had started the whole ordeal last time. "No, I'm actually quite far from being all right, but thanks for asking," Cristobal, now a receptionist instead of a deliveryman, answered, with his usual harsh character. If anything, that hadn't changed.
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Re: So Ashamed Of The Trouble I've Caused... [P- Shrewd and

Postby Kallile » 10/15/2012 5:52 AM

His bluntness hadn’t been expected. Granted, Kyrie wasn’t expecting him to suddenly be buddy-buddy with her, but his first words had been…mostly civil. The response to her question was not what she had hoped. He was beating people up? Given his appearance, she hated to ask if he was really the one doing the beating or just the one getting pummeled. She frowned and took his cue of leaning back. Standing back to her full height Kyrie tried to hold it together. It seemed that nothing had changed at all, really. He was still going to be the difficult man she had met a month ago and he was not going to let her in by any means. Even though, quite publicly, they had gotten very comfortable with one another in just one night.

Typically this sort of adversary brought people closer together. With Cristobal…perhaps she was right. Perhaps that was the final straw he needed to decide that he hated her. “You’re welcome.” She almost whispered back, dejected and not sounding as if she was so sure she meant it. Pressing down a little harder on the package on the desk she slid it closer to him before releasing it.

“I…need the fastest delivery for this. It needs to be there as soon as possible.” The address on the packing would look familiar if he had happened to read the paper—made out to Throttle System Gaming Inc. Lowering her head a little Kyrie just waited for him to hand her papers or try to sell her insurance for the package. If she opened her mouth to say anything else he would just keep pushing her away and judging from the tone he had given the person on the other end of the phone just a few minutes ago, he was already burning that fuse pretty short.
"I have been hidden, scorned, adored, worshiped, forsaken, coveted and banished more times than I care to count. But the one thing all those experiences cannot steal from me is the gentle soul I was born with, the kind heart I have molded, and the bright ideals for the future that have lit my way through the darkness of the past."




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Postby Jaykobell » 10/15/2012 6:40 PM

Fortunately for Cristobal, the conversation ended fairly quickly, and no more awkward, personal, friendly questions were asked. What he'd answered was really what was happening: people bugged him, he started a fight and they started beating each other up. Cue that practically daily, and obviously it was easy to get beaten up over time. He'd never gotten along with his coworkers — or, well, anyone, really — but this time, the whole thing was just blowing his fuse short, and he didn't feel like taking it.

Nor did he feel like talking with Kyrie here — or anywhere really — and somehow manage to get himself into even more trouble.

They finally got to the heart of the subject, which didn't please him much more, but which was, at least, business-related talk. The address on the package wasn't familiar to him, but it would've probably been familiar to whoever had this miserable job of a receptionist before him. He pulled out the computer keyboard and punched in the address in order to find out just how far away it was from the building. Since the storks could fly, proposing something that would get there overnight was pointless it the destination was just a few streets away.

Slipping his hand under the desk, he eventually pulled out a few different pamphlets, all a different color, and all with different rates and options. "You have three options," he started with, tapping each pamphlet once with a pen. "You can go with the cheapest option. It doesn't cost a lot, but you don't get a tracking number, nor are we responsible if it gets lost. It also gets there when it gets there — if the stork in charge gets sick or tired, they'll stop and that will delay the delivery. It does have a priority option set to it, so unless necessary, the flyer shouldn't stop for long."

Then he tapped the pamphlet next to it. "Middle option is more expensive, and you still don't get a tracking number, nor will we replace the package if the stork loses it. For this one, the stork doesn't stop under any circumstances, unless that would put his life at risk. Delivery is faster and is usually done within the same day, depending when you place the order and where it's going."

And then finally, the last pamphlet. "Last pamphlet is more expensive, but the safest. You get a tracking number in case something happens, and we take responsibility for the package, including damaged or lost during delivery. If that happens, we'll cover the costs and deliver another package free of charge to the destination of your choice. As with the second option, the stork doesn't stop unless it's absolutely necessary, such as putting his life in danger. It also asks for a priority service, meaning that whatever delivery the stork has to do the same day will be put on hold until this particular delivery is done. It also includes an overnight service where the stork will keep flying even at night if it means the package the gets there in time."

He gave Kyrie a few seconds to get everything in before going back to the first pamphlet. "Option 1 is really for people who want things delivered fast, but who aren't particularly hasty about it, or who don't care if they can't track it. Option 2 is for people who want the delivery to be made, but it has certain risks where you don't get refunded if the package is lost, but with the short amount of time it takes to deliver, the odds are low. Option 3 is for paranoid people or for people who need things to be literally delivered within the same hour due to time constraints."

With everything all explained and done, he put the pen away from the pamphlets and leaned back in his chair a little, leaving Kyrie to make her own decision.
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Postby Kallile » 10/17/2012 5:30 PM

Kyrie was not so pleased to have the conversation end where it did and revert to being cold and business-related. She wanted to really know what had happened; the why's, how's, who's...all of it. But considering what he looked like he had already been through...she just couldn't bring herself to that level of questioning. He still wasn't seeming all that thrilled to see her; his life had to be hell because of her now.

She listened in silence as he told her the options and found herself wondering why he couldn't just talk to her like that to begin with. Why most men, in fact, couldn't just put things out on the line and spell out what was going on. Her father and brother were to blame for being closed off about emotions as well. If Cristobal would talk to her even in half the detail he did about these brochures, she would have likely left him alone much longer.

"Well, I suppose you can call me paranoid then. I need the third option--as soon as possible. This information has a pretty tight deadline on it." She told him, running a finger absently along the smooth tape that held it secure. "So...the tracking number and the whole nine yards." She offered a half-hearted smile; it made her stomach twist into knocks to look at him all bruised and battered. It was everything she had wanted to avoid the night she had offered to drive him home. Failing in the long run wasn't any less a blow as it might have been to see instead the headline of "Delivery-Stork Brutally Murdered In Alley" the next morning.
"I have been hidden, scorned, adored, worshiped, forsaken, coveted and banished more times than I care to count. But the one thing all those experiences cannot steal from me is the gentle soul I was born with, the kind heart I have molded, and the bright ideals for the future that have lit my way through the darkness of the past."




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Postby Jaykobell » 10/21/2012 9:06 PM

To give credit where credit was due, Cristobal could at least admit that Kyrie was a good customer. No need for him to repeat anything, no need for him to justify the prices or the details, no need for him to feel like his job was the worst thing he would be doing right now. Some customers were unbearable, some of them interrupting him while he was talking, others just making the whole thing unnecessarily unpleasant. At least, Kyrie knew what she wanted, making this transaction tolerable and quick.

With her choice picked out, he pulled forward towards the desk and shuffled some papers, until he eventually put a few slips on the counter for Kyrie to read and sign. "Just answer what they're asking you to specify, and then sign that you've read the pamphlet and understand what kind of service you picked, and that you agree to uphold your own end of the deal." The questions weren't particularly complicated, and were mostly in order to clarify what the package was and other such things to help the delivery. They asked what the item was, the weight, the value attributed to it, where it had to be delivered — and other such things.

"I'll find a priority stork while you fill this," Cristobal added once he'd put all the papers down on the counter, together with a pen for Kyrie to use to fill them out. He focused on the computer that was hidden under the counter, which he used to find out which storks had which packages, and which stork had the least amount of deliveries to do. He grumbled and murmured some noises under his breath as he looked through the list and was left with a single choice for this delivery. Whatever was making him upset, though, wasn't shared with Kyrie in any way as he left her to her papers, and he kept to his computer.
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Postby Kallile » 10/21/2012 9:53 PM

Kyrie took the papers and pens that were slide her direction, looking them over in silence to avoid blurting out something emotional and touchy-feely that would somehow lead to ruining the moment of truce she had seemingly reached. It was uncomfortable for her...but if it made him more comfortable she would do it. She was probably the last person he wanted to see here anyway.

"All of this is fine, but really I just need it for the tracking number. Like I mentioned, this is time-sensitive material and I just need to make sure it actually gets there. If it's lost then...I have back-ups with me. Is there anywhere I should note that?" She said, scanning the pages for anything similar to a 'comments' or 'special instructions' portion. He could probably alert her to it a lot faster than she could find it on her own.

"You know...that offer still stands." She said very quietly, partly hoping it would be lost to his muttering about whatever he was looking over. He had probably forgotten her offer to just..hang out. Forget she was some celebrity and forget he was supposed to be some freak. Only this time, she was going to hide the booze. From herself mostly, remembering his saying he wouldn't take what wasn't his. Maybe if he would have taken it earlier he wouldn't be so beaten up now. Then it clicked that he was muttering about something and she leaned forward a little to see.

"If everyone is booked I'll just drive it there myself and get out of your hair. I don't want to inconvenience anyone." She said this perhaps a little more apologetically than was needed, but she said it honestly. "I'll still pay for the package just for taking up your time and all, but don't....pull anyone away if they're all busy right now." That and maybe if she sounded concerned enough he would forget what she had just mentioned. It was dumb anyway--why would he ever want to spend more time with her?
"I have been hidden, scorned, adored, worshiped, forsaken, coveted and banished more times than I care to count. But the one thing all those experiences cannot steal from me is the gentle soul I was born with, the kind heart I have molded, and the bright ideals for the future that have lit my way through the darkness of the past."




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Postby Jaykobell » 10/28/2012 6:17 PM

"Just specify that in the Notes section at the bottom," Cristobal replied at Kyrie's question concerning her having an extra copy. "You can put whatever you think is important in there," he added as he continued to look through the list on his computer as Kyrie filled out the form. Whatever reason she wanted this service for, he honestly couldn't care less. She wanted it to get there fast, and that's all he needed or cared to know.

He did hear her when it came to the mention of her "offer" still standing. He glanced up at her, but he didn't say or do anything. She was probably mentioning it just because he looked beat up, and she probably felt pity for him. He honestly didn't care whether Kyrie cared or not, or if she wanted to hang out with him, or whatever else.

Cristobal withdrew a little out of habit when Kyrie tried to look down the counter to see what he was muttering about. The words that followed left the deliveryman-now-secretary blink and raise an eyebrow. "Do you even understand how businesses work? Of course they're all busy," he blurted out, wondering how she could even bring herself to say something like that. "They're deliverymen. They don't just sit there waiting for new packages to come in to deliver. Would you tell a waiter you can just make your own food if the chef is too busy or already making everyone else's?" It took everything he had not to roll his eyes. "I'm not upset about that. If you really want this thing to go out right now, then finish filing the form." Again, it took everything for him to keep himself from adding something along the lines of, "instead of putting your nose where it doesn't belong".
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Postby Kallile » 10/29/2012 6:48 PM

There it was again, that tone and those angry eyes. Oh, why couldn't she just stop it? She was fighting a losing battle and she knew it, but she couldn't help but to keep trying. Quickly she scribbled down the remaining information she thought might be remotely important to them and hastily shoved the paper and pen back towards Cristobal, suddenly overcome with the urge to just...run. She pushed the idea from her mind--she wasn't a child where running from situations was going to magically solve them.

Besides that, she was still stuck here until she got her tracking number from him, or else she was paying extra for nothing. But she couldn't just stand there and wait quietly...as much as Cristobal would probably have appreciated it. "I'm sorry, that was stupid. I'm just...nervous." She admitted. And before she knew it words were gushing from her mouth before she could stop them.

"I just...I really thought that you probably hated me and even though everyone else said you'd be fine...well here you are clearly not fine and it's my fault. And as much as I want to make it up to you I know I can't because making it up to you is what got us in this in the first place and I just..." She finally inhaled, cheeks flushing brightly pink even from under her large sunglasses. "I just want to know if you can forgive me or not."
"I have been hidden, scorned, adored, worshiped, forsaken, coveted and banished more times than I care to count. But the one thing all those experiences cannot steal from me is the gentle soul I was born with, the kind heart I have molded, and the bright ideals for the future that have lit my way through the darkness of the past."




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Postby Jaykobell » 11/25/2012 6:37 PM

Cristobal was back looking at his screen to try to fix whatever had made him grumble. Currently, there was really only one stork available for a fast delivery, but he was far from being the most reliable. Even with this kind of tracking and insurance, Cristobal's hunch told him this stork was going to chill on the job and end up failing the delivery. Not to mention, that particular deliveryman often ended up "losing" packages. Of course, it wasn't like Kyrie knew any of that.

He was staring when he heard the woman start talking again, and this time with a lot more words than earlier. He originally wasn't going to pay attention to her after the first sentence where she apologized, but then she just kept going on and on. Given a few more sentences, Cristobal eventually glanced up at the model from his desk, although he didn't say anything until she was completely finished.

Even then, the look he could muster was something between confusion and bewilderment. "Do you... have a problem, or what?" was the first thing he replied, which was probably far from being what Kyrie had expected to hear. "What's your obsession with me? Why would you care if I hated you or not? Why would you care if I'm fine or not? Why would you care if I forgave you or not? Do you do this to every single person you end up meeting? We met once and just because some idiot plucked a feather from me, you went all stalker-mode on me." Well, maybe "stalker" was a little like pushing it: she wasn't trying to follow him back home, nor was she trying to send him gifts or money or anything to help him out. Right? ... If she had, he hadn't noticed, and he certainly wanted to keep it that way.

"Listen," he started again, this time getting up from his chair so they could stand more eye-to-eye. "If you seriously care about me, then good for you. I don't hate you, I just don't like you, just how I don't like everyone else. It's not rocket science. I got demoted and I got beaten up because I sabotaged our newspaper storage after they started covering that stupid story so we wouldn't spread it out like wildfire. Our provider complained and they found me out. You know how many people came to me after they learned about the story? You know how many people asked me stupid crap like if I'd had sex with you, or if I could give them your address so they could go stalk you? How many asked me other crap you probably don't even want to hear? And do you know how many I punched in the face for it, and in how many fights I got into from it? That's why I got demoted: because I kept beating everyone up." He'd gotten more agitated by now, waving his arms a little around and gesticulating more.

"If I seriously and genuinely hated you, I would've spread that newspaper around, and I would've given your coordinates to every single crazy creeper that came to me asking for them so they could find you and do horrible things to you." With that said, Cristobal just let himself fall back into his chair, although he was still looking at her. "There, are you happy now? Will you please stop obsessing over me?" Even Kyrie's actions barely qualified as an "obsession", but considering Cristobal had never experienced a "relationship" of this intensity, the whole thing was incredibly overwhelming from his point of view. Not to mention that the deliveryman also had the habit of over-exaggerating things to begin with. "Now, can you please finish filling out the form so we can get this over with?"
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[7]

Postby Kallile » 01/01/2013 10:00 PM

Blinking at the man across from her was about the only thing Kyrie could do for a moment. Did she have a problem? She knew what he was asking, of course, but she wouldn’t let herself believe it for a moment. How could caring translate into a problem? How could he even think to ask her something like that? “Excuse me?” She finally managed, but he was already elaborating. With each question he presented her she felt more and more stung to the point of near anger….until he broke out the word “stalker” on her.

…Oh Gods.

…..Oh Gods, was that what he really thought of her?

In that moment, Kyrie could see very clearly why he was getting that vibe. She was being a little clingier than normal, she was hoping to build something akin to friendship that this man clearly didn’t want. And for what? She supposed…if she looked deep enough…it was partly out of pity and partly out of her just being her. She cared for everyone; she knew all her management staffs birthdays by heart, she always sent her workers in the gaming industry gift cards for special occasions, her siblings and parents and even co-workers were never left wanting anything because—deep down—Kyrie was just a selfless soul. She had done all the things that got her to her current position not even for herself but for a family she didn’t even have yet. A husband and children, so that they could live a life without worry. She supposed that it was Cristobal’s story that had driven her to this point of wanting so badly to see one shining light in a society that hated him.

So she sat there in silence and listened to him rant on about all the things he had done and that had happened to him since that night. About how angry she was making him and how badly he just wanted her to disappear…or at least that was how her mind was currently hearing things. She sucked down the lump she could feel forming in her throat and hung her head a little to break the eye contact that had been going on. “I’m…sorry. I didn’t mean to….want to make you feel that way. I just thought maybe you’d like to talk to someone going through the same thing as you. But…I’ll just stop. You’ll never see me again after this if you don’t want to.”

She swiftly brushed away a stray tear from her cheek with one hand and reached out to slide her completed form a little closer to him in a gentle reminder that she had just finished it. “Here, it’s done.” She said before falling into uncomfortable silence.
"I have been hidden, scorned, adored, worshiped, forsaken, coveted and banished more times than I care to count. But the one thing all those experiences cannot steal from me is the gentle soul I was born with, the kind heart I have molded, and the bright ideals for the future that have lit my way through the darkness of the past."




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[7]

Postby Jaykobell » 01/02/2013 10:49 PM

Initially, Cristobal thought telling Kyrie everything would finally make her understand that while he was a pest, that he had at least... tried to do the whole "caring" thing. He'd gotten hurt for her, he'd lost his job for her, he had basically screwed his whole office for her. Part of it had been to protect himself as well, but part of it, maybe, had been to also not get her into as much trouble. It had all been for nothing in the end, but it's the thought that counts? Something to that effect.

Despite his extensive amount of words and explanations, he watched and heard the girl react the opposite way. He watched Kyrie swallow her emotions, brush off a tear, stutter, and everything else that came with it. Of course, Cristobal spoke the way he spoke to everybody, so the possibility of him having used harsh or extreme words went completely over his head. That being the reason as to why Kyrie was overreacting isn't something that crossed his mind, which treated everyone with an equal amount of dislike.

With Kyrie's reaction being the complete opposite of what he had expected, it sort of reminded Cristobal how he couldn't handle — and didn't know how to handle — any relationship of any kind with anyone. He sighed deeply and with aggravation at Kyrie's, quite admittedly, annoying and childish reaction. He'd tried to help her by trying to get rid of all those pests who'd tried to stalk her. But now she was whining and crying about how he was just waiting for her to get away from him and to never see her again? That's not what he wanted, he just wanted her to stop obsessing. From his point of view, she was smothering him. If he couldn't handle speaking to someone normally, how did Kyrie expect him to handle someone latching onto him so powerfully?

When Kyrie handed over the form, Cristobal pushed it a little ways away as he stared back up at her. "Okay, first, stop crying," he told her, biting back the extra "like a baby" comment that he was dying to say. "Did you even listen to me? I got beat up for you, you didn't catch that? I tried to keep the newspaper from sharing that story, you didn't catch that either? Did you understand anything I just told you?" Really, he did want to know. Either he'd said the wrong words, or something had triggered that reaction. And if she had listened, then he wanted to know what he'd said that had made her burst out like that.

"I also really doubt you've gone through anything that's similar to what's happened to me," he added after that, his voice genuinely doubtful of her words. "You're a freaking model. You have everything you want. I'm a deliveryman with no future ahead of me, and nothing to my name. And you're comparing yourself to me?" To say she'd gone through the same thing as he had? How full of herself was this girl? That's what Cristobal thought: this girl was a model, a star. What did she know about his position? About having to scrap every cent you could find just to live another painful day in a reality that didn't want to even acknowledge you?
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[8]

Postby Kallile » 01/02/2013 11:30 PM

At first she sucked in a deep breath and righted herself to look him straight in the eye as best she could. “I’m not crying.” She said with a strong voice even though her eyes were still watery. She looked at him, listening to what he was retelling her. Truth be told her mind had gone to a sort of tunnel vision state once the word “stalker” had been put into play. But she had heard him. Hearing him retell the things he had been going through did not help her feel any better about the situation.

She mustered up her will to talk to him without blubbering like a toddler being told they couldn’t watch their favorite movie for the fifteenth time that day. No, she was an adult business woman and public figure. She was used to handling this. But…she was used to handling talk like this from people she had nothing to do with otherwise. People who only know her name because she was on their calendar or listed as a producer on their favorite game. They didn’t know her in the least and that was the division that let her keep a level head about any belittlement that might come from their lips.

But Cristobal was held on a different level to her; he did know her a little bit better than the others and the fact that he had lost so much to try and help her of all people drew him that much closer to her mental inner circle. His words were meaningful…and also hurtful. “I’ve…been called a lot of things in my life. But I’ve never been called a stalker before and I don’t know how to apologize for it. The fact that you lost and gave up so much well--how do you want me to react? I’ve been nothing but a source of pain for you; isn’t not seeing me again what? To just forget all of this ever even happened and try to make things go back to normal?”

She could feel her eyes welling up again but she fought back the water works. “I never wanted you to do all that….to get yourself hurt and to lose your job. I never wanted that for you. It was sweet of you to try so hard but you shouldn’t have done it. I would have managed…”

She was caught off guard a little by his last comment and her tone lost some of its certainty. “I wasn’t comparing myself to you. I meant that night. You and I were the only ones actually there, the driver was asleep. No one else could understand what happened better than us. That was all I was meaning. I am so tired of having that night twisted around into something it wasn’t and no one will listen when I tell them it never happened like that. It would just be nice to have someone listen to me and for once agree with what I already know is true. It's a lonely fight when you're the only one telling the truth. That was all I meant by it.” She finished, looking and sounding honestly concerned about what he thought she had meant by it.
"I have been hidden, scorned, adored, worshiped, forsaken, coveted and banished more times than I care to count. But the one thing all those experiences cannot steal from me is the gentle soul I was born with, the kind heart I have molded, and the bright ideals for the future that have lit my way through the darkness of the past."




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