nothing in my way //

[zahira faiza hakim]

i was alone, i took a ride
I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT I WOULD FIND THERE
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Malik is so irresponsible, Zahira thought angrily as she walked down the street holding a leash. Somehow he thinks it's my job to walk Rupert? When he specifically insisted on bringing Rupert as his dog? What an asshole.

Rupert, the big Siberian husky who had caused all the trouble by needing to be fed and walked and stuff, trotted happily along, tongue lolling out of his mouth, mismatched eyes staring at anything and everything, completely unaware of the annoyance his owner felt. I can't believe that guy sometimes. They'd just arrived at Eisley, and what's the first thing Mal did? Started scoping out the local booze, of course. And the hot everybody.

She knew he'd fit in here like a fish in water - bully for him. But she felt a little more out of place. He was the easy charmer, the almost-frighteningly charismatic one, who could seduce someone, break their heart, and make them come begging back to him in less than a week. Zahira was less socially savvy, preferring to spend time with the internet than other people face-to-face.

The fact that she was wearing a Boston Red Sox cap - in public - in Brooklyn! - was not a symptom of that social awkwardness as much as plain old stubbornness. 'You're going to get your ass kicked,' Mal had warned her, and she'd grinned fiercely. 'Let 'em try.' For that hat was a signature part of her wardrobe; indeed, she rarely went anywhere without it. And to be honest, she was kind of itching for someone to say something about it. I'll punch their teeth right out their fool mouth.

Rupert sniffed around at a car's bumper, smelling New York, and probably another dog's urine. He began to lift his leg. "Nonono! Bad dog!" Zahira said, tugging gently on the leash. "Not on the car. I'm not going to be party to an insurance suit. Come on, this way, here's a nice patch of dead earth you can do your business on, huh? And hurry up about it - it's damn freezing out here." She hugged her arms to herself, wondering why it was so damn cold, and also why she hadn't bothered to wear any winter gear more substantial than a windbreaker. She didn't even have gloves on, for crying out loud.

While Rupert did his business, which (joy of joys) included a #2, she checked her cell phone, her breath misting up in the cool evening air. No calls. No texts. It was like her friends had just plain forgotten about her. Fine, I didn't want to talk to them anyway. She crouched down next to the husky, who had walked back over to her.

"Rupert! Rupert-roo! You made a poo and now I have to go pick it up, why don't you ever do this when my brother is walking you?" The big dog just stuck his tongue out and licked at her face. "Oh, man, fft, get off, I don't know where that thing's been," she said, laughing and playfully pushing the dog off. Taking a baggie from her pocket, she walked to the spot where the dog had done his business, and cleaned it up. "Gross, Rupee," she said, and looked for a nearby trashcan in which to dispose of the mess. After a bit of searching, she found one, picked up some snow to 'clean' her hands, and continued walking the dog. Neither of them had any intention of returning to Eisley just yet.

Zahira tugged the brim of her cap down, glancing around. Was it just her, or did she see --

No, that was definitely another flake. And another. It was snowing now. Zahira loved snow, but she hated being cold. Nothing for it but to enjoy the snow while it came down. Maybe the snow would last longer than five minutes, unlike in DC.

She thought about Malik again, and exhaled grumpily, watching the cloud of steam spiral into fanciful fractals. Quickly, she took out her cell phone and texted with freezing fingers - 'Snowing outside. go out and see, it's cool.' "Ah, damn it, why didn't I put on gloves?!" she asked nobody in particular. Rupert jumped around, excited to see the snow here in New York.

Stubbornness, a bit of a mood, and a Red Sox cap in enemy territory. What could possibly go wrong?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -
another road where maybe i

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COULD SEE ANOTHER KIND OF MIND THERE[/font][/center][/color]

tagged[/b] » anybody and everybody!
words » 778
lyrics » got to get you into my life - the beatles
music » nothing in my way - keane
notes » If you want to pick a fight with her, you'd better check yourself before you wreck yourself. xD;

[anastasia]

People like us know how to survive
There's no point in living if you can't feel the life
~~~~~~~~~~

Anastasia always felt to alive after working her feet to a pulp in her russian-pink Pointe shoes. Using a baby-wipe, she gingerly wiped down her bloody toes, revealing the true damage. She smiled, and wrapped them with band-aids. The blisters and cuts would heal over, leaving tougher scar tissue that would be more resilient the next time around.

Once she had covered the bulk of the damage, she left her tights folded to her calves and stood, stretching to hug her knees. There was a heat that radiated from her body during this cool down period that she loved more than anything. The coolness of the tile floor of her dressing room was like quenching water to the fire in her feet. Slowly, she rose to her toes, and lowered once more, stretching the arches, and smiling once more with the relaxing warmth of pain.

Ballet was her escape. It was no more a chore than her singing lessons, or her piano practicing. It represented true advancement through hard work... and the pain that accompanied it. It was life, in its simplest form, the passion, the pain, the ambition, the love.

Quickly, she dressed, realizing acutely that she had only a half hour before her next appointment, an audition for a shoot in an American magazine, the "Cosmopolitan." Mostly, it was to be a simple presentation of her portfolio, and perhaps a short interview. She was prepared.

The careful creases and precise cleanliness of her clothing betrayed both an outstanding sense of style as well as her dedication to professional perfection. There was to be no dog hair or wrinkle out of place, especially when being viewed for an opportunity. But that could very well be an effect of her crippling OCD, from another perspective. She was known to be more than slightly anal-retentive. It didn’t matter the reason, however. She had a job to do.

An hour later, Ana was back on the streets of Brooklyn, tying closed the fur collar of her coat on account of the sudden drop in temperature. It had started snowing lightly, a welcome sight to the Eurasian. Now she was in another type of Pointe shoe, the dangerously delicious high-heel. These too, she relished with a sort of worshipful hatred. She loved them, and sometimes, she despised them. And so, every day, they graced her already tortured feet, looking fabulous no matter how painful they were. Once more, her obsession with a clean and beautiful appearance became apparent. The cool shininess of the fox at her throat, and the clean, thick felt of the body of her jacket hardly dimmed in comparison.

The hard cement below her resonated quite nicely with the hard, crispness of her steps as she strode along, choosing to walk the few blocks to her apartment, rather than go through the effort of hailing a cab. That was one thing she loved about the states, since moving here. Cement sidewalks were not as pretty as cobblestone, but it was so much simpler to walk across, and easier on the shoes. She could move at a higher speed, with virtually no fear of catching a random irregularity, and knocking herself silly in a fall.

As she strolled along, she towered above most. She found it mostly amusing, but also extremely interesting. In the Ukraine, she was only slightly taller than average. Men were still, generally, taller than her, and as tall as her in heels, and the women were usually only a little below eye level. Here in the states, she was taller than most men, and all women that she had met. She wasn’t one of those women that this fact would bother, being disinclined to any sort of romantic relationship at the moment. In every other aspect of her life, her height was an advantage. In modeling, it was preferred. In acting, it forced any possible employers to remember her. In dance, it only made her lines more striking…

A truly beautiful sight interrupted her thoughts. The thick, soft looking white fur, dark points, and bright, haunting eyes caught her attention immediately. Siberian Husky, the most lovely of dogs, in her opinion. A smile lit her face, and the dog met eyes with her, the tail wagging in reaction to somebody so excited to see him. As she kept her course toward the animal, her eyes traveled up the leash to the somebody leading him.

The girl was pretty, in an exotic way. She would say a hybrid mix of something Middle Eastern. If she had to say, she would guess Egyptian, but she could have easily been wrong about that. Very pretty, in any case.

Ana met her eyes and offered a friendly smile, before returning her attention to the canine. “Oh, he is just adorable!” Her voice was mature, and carried the hint of a gypsiesqe accent. She offered her fingers to the dog’s nose, essentially asking permission to touch him. His warm, pink tongue touched her knuckles, and she knelt down to give him a proper scratch behind the ears and under the collar.

She looked up at the pretty girl with an apologetic smile. “Excuse my familiarity,” she said. Her eyes returned to the happy looking dog. “I just cannot resist a beautiful puppy!” She scratched under his chin, and the dog closed his eyes in bliss. She smiled once more up at the owner. “What is his name?” She did not realize that this behavior was perhaps uncouth. Behind all of her professionalism, she was a friendly person, who was even slightly naïve about the hospitality of strangers. She had yet to learn that Brooklyn was an angry city filled with angry people.

~~~~~~~~~~
We know when to kiss and we know when to kill
If we can't have it all then nobody will

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950 - word count
Here! - outfit
Zahira faiza hakim - tagged
The World Is Not Enough by Garbage - lyrics
Love Game by Lady Gaga - now playing
I'm sorry, it's horrible! I haven't written in forever! By the way, if that's not what the - notes dog would do, feel free to pm me, and I'll change it...