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moffnat

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Fantasy, politics, historical fiction, romance
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Evelyn has always been blind. Since birth, the girl has struggled through endless challenges that left her gripped in the
clutches of social and personal upheaval. With the trials of sightlessness and the inability to connect with others, Evelyn
grew up in a hard life, but was not without the support of her family and the few friends she had. As she grew in grace
and beauty, she held the key of genuine goodness and love close to her heart as well as her faith in God and continued
to prosper despite her affliction. She has friends to surround her and the city she knows and loves, and it seems that
nothing, not even knowing she will never see the faces of loved ones or the glow of the sunset, can bring her down.


Brackston is very different. Growing up in a hard life, he fled Atlanta at a young age and found his way west to
the sunny state of California. At sixteen, he found his way and struggled through city life in order to attain the
peace and security he always wanted, but never had. A Hollywood agent came for auditions and after stunning
the judges with his superior skill, Brackston Banks became a household name as the years passed and his career
flourished under Hollywoo'd nurturing. The fruits of resentment never left him, however, and deep in his
broken heart festers wounds beyond counting that poisons and tortures him with each passing day.


Two lives will cross unlikely paths, and together they will see life in a new, colorful light.

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[fieldbox="Brackston Banks; Hollywood Heartthrob, silver, solid"]
If you don't make eye contact, they won't notice you. It was the motto he'd lived by since a less-than-formal induction to the beast that Hollywood was, the clawing creature that stole every inch of a person's being and molded them in to public icons, torn to shreds by critics and haters, thrown on a pedestal for all to ruthlessly examine. The fame was something he could live without--dealing with people was never Brackston's strong suit and the "I can't see them, they can't see me" mantra was burned into his daily outings. But the fortune was what made everything worth it. Having a bank account the size of Russia with all the luxury he could swallow was what filled the hole in his heart, what brought the consuming dread of reality to a temporary heel within a shattered mind.

At least, that was the lie he told himself. And he would believe it until the day he died.

"Coffee, black," he told the barista at the counter of a local Starbucks, pushing his sunglasses further up his nose to remain incognito. "And a caramel mocha for the lady."

"You know me too well." The woman at his side, his agent and a rather pesky person if honesty prevailed, folded her arms across her chest and looked around to the semi-busy coffeehouse with a look of disdain. "Not too many people here. Should be fine for a talk. I still don't know why you wanted to meet in public, I hate people. You know that."

"I had shit to do in the city. Couldn't be bothered to go back home." He swiped his credit card and accepted the drinks, while his agent found a table and sat herself near it. "Does it really matter? You don't care about my personal life."

"Not in the slightest," she chuckled, the short black curls bouncing with her laugh. "Unless it concerns your public image, which is the topic of today's lecture."

"Ugh, Christ." He slumped in the chair across from his agent, a woman by the name of Genna and his best friend since his college days. A look of distaste for a conversation that had yet to start was etched on his dark face. "Not this again. I'm fine, people like me enough."

"Not enough. You're kind of a jerk."

"So? As long as I stay out of legal trouble I'll still have fans, and directors keep coming to me for work. Shouldn't make a single difference what I do off-camera."

"But it does." The woman sighed. "Listen, Brackston. Do you want to be type-cast like Liam Neeson and Vin Diesel? No? Then listen up. You need a bit of a personality adjustment." She folded her hands on the table and met her client dead in the eyes. "I don't care if you actually give a damn about whatever you do, but you have to do something. Your popularity rates are dropping faster than Obama's. The most popular actors out there are real stand-up guys, guys that do things in the community or take a stand on political issues, guys who have the skill you have on-screen but with everything that you lack off of it. They tweet pictures of cancer kids instead of the hundreds of pairs of shoes they have in their closet."

"Hey! I like my shoes."

"That's not the point." She groaned. "You need to do some public service."

"This, coming from you?" Brackston laughed outright. "I'm not gonna adopt some kid from Africa or build a school in Mexico. I have better things to do with my time."

"That may be true, but anything will help. Rescue a puppy and take stupid selfies with it. Help a fat old lady across the street. Pay off everyone's layaways at Toys-R-Us or Walmart, I don't care. Anything will help at this point. Just tell me what you did, and don't lie about it because I'll know, and I'll make sure it gets to the media pronto."

"Is it really that bad?" Brackston leaned back in his chair, a frown on his face. "I hate all that. I just want to act and get paid and for people to leave me the fuck alone."

"It's nice to want things. You could have been a doctor or a hitchhiker or a male stripper, but you chose this."

"I would have been a damn good stripper. Maybe I chose the wrong job."

"Maybe," Genna chuckled in reply.
[/fieldbox]​
 
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[fieldbox="Evelyn Kelley : Blue Eyes, #80b3d1, solid"]They notice when you don't make eye contact. It wasn't a motto, or a clever phrase Evelyn had come up with along the road and ever present path of being blind. It was a fact. All her life she'd made futile attempts to find the best way to follow a gaze. Voice alone wasn't enough, she had to look up from the sounds. When she looked up, her eyes needed to rest. There were a dozen tips and tricks she'd taught herself to practice when another human being wanted her attention, but in the end, it never amounted to much more than an empty gaze over the speaker's shoulder.

That's probably why she liked sunglasses so much. No one could tell that she wasn't looking right at them, and by the time they figured out Evelyn was blind, it hardly mattered. She wore a pair of aviators, oblivious to the weather outside in any event. The less attention she had on her face, the better.

She could feel the heat on her skin from the sun in the sky, but couldn't so much as begin to describe the rest of the world around her. There were sirens, blaring alarms and the gentle noise of people chattering. Just at her side was the one familiar noise in the otherwise chaotic public places she liked to venture to, Thor, her trusted guide dog. He was a larger German Shepherd, who she'd been told had a bolt shaped black pattern across the right side of his face.

His feet padded gently against against the cement sidewalk, headed to a predetermined destination. Thor stopped, sat, and Evelyn could feel the gentle breeze of his tail wagging near her ankle.

"Are we there, boy?" Evelyn reached down to scratch Thor's ear, her head never so much as looked down to where he was. "Where's the door, boy, hm?"

Thor scratched against a glass door, which Evelyn recognized as a local coffee shop. It wasn't hard to tell with the thick and familiar scent of a fresh brew in the air, accenting hints of vanilla and milk permeated through the air more thickly than anything else. Noise was nothing, it was the smells which got to her first. A loss of sight had given her some more advanced senses, and despite the near overwhelming scent of coffee in her nose, Evelyn loved it.

"I'm sorry ma'am, no - oh, it's you Eva." Someone called to her from behind the counter. Evelyn waved her hand in the general direction, and received a chuckle in response. "You had the glasses on, almost didn't recognize you there."

"Were you going to try to tell me I could've have my dog with me, Tyler?" She laughed, her voice wasn't the only notable noise in the entire shop. It must have been somewhat busy, too many sounds giving way to some kind of heated conversation made its way to her ears.

"Sorry, it's been a while you know. What can I get ya, Eva?" The kinda barista, Tyler, sounded closer than before. Probably at the counter. Eva stepped up and tried to order. He knew she was blind, and knew she wouldn't so much as look his way, and that was a small comfort. Tyler didn't really care about that.

Every little action was an ordeal growing up. Leaving the house was an impossible thought, and navigation was pointless up until she'd gotten Thor as a late birthday present. She was proud now that going down to the coffee shop never turned into a national emergency.

When she talked, she tried to grope the empty air with her eyes, searching for the voice she spoke to.

But if you never make eye contact, they definitely notice. No one is completely invisible.[/fieldbox]
 
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[fieldbox="Brackston Banks; Hollywood Heartthrob, silver"]
The woman adjacent to him let out a long, heavy sigh, taking a sip of her mocha before speaking again over the low chatter of the cafe. "I hate this stuff too, you know. I get put through the shitter as well. But we gotta pull through this together, okay? It can't kill you to do some community service or something that'll make all the single moms out there weep over your princely heart..." Her eyes moved elsewhere, he noticed, and no longer did they linger on her client.

"My princely heart?" Brackston laughed. "Going a little overboard, there."

"Shh!"

"What?"

"Shut up." The woman put her finger over her lips to shush him and eyed something or someone over his shoulder, and Brackston turned, unable to quell the curiosity. Groping the air was a young woman with sunglasses and striking red hair, but with one look Brackston knew she had never known the shade. The German Shepard was her guide, the glasses a block to the portal of her soul that was dead and inactive, most likely since birth. A blind girl? he pondered. He had known someone who was blind as well, once. He and his friends had picked on the kid in elementary school and were nearly suspended for it.

Maybe I do need a "princely heart."

The actor turned back to his agent. "I don't get it, why do you--"

"That's you're key, Brackston." Genna's voice had lowered to a devious whisper and she leaned in to express her intent. "That girl."

"What? You're fucking ridiculous."

"If you take off your hood and those glasses and help her to the table, maybe talk to her for a few minutes, people around here will take pictures and it'll be all over the news in a blink! Bad pun. You get the gist."

"Are you kidding?" He groaned, though it was impossible to say that the idea couldn't work.. "I'm so ill-equipped to handle this sort of thing, Genna, please don't bother me any more about it--"

"Brackston, come on!" Her hands gently pressed flat against the surface of the table, an action he'd known to mean rage over the years Genna had been his agent and friend, and he knew there was no way out. Her temper had been sparked. The issue must have been serious for such a laid-back woman to take it so diligently. "This is for your image and mine too. You've gotta get goin', Bracky! You can't miss this opportunity!"

Perhaps it won't be as awful as I'm sure it'll be, he thought in attempt to reassure himself as there was no way to dissuade her. She can't make eye contact with you. Maybe she won't care.

"Fuck." Brackston pushed himself from his seat and removed his hoodie and glasses upon Genna's command, crossing the small shop and gently taking one of the hands the blind girl extended to feel the air. Her skin was soft and her figure petite, and the simple scent of flowers wafted from her bright fiery hair.

"Hey," he stated calmly in reassurance, hoping he hadn't frightened her. It would make his image worse if the headlines said "Brackston Banks Scares Blind Girl to Death". He kept his touch light and undemanding. "Hey, hey. Do you need help to a table or something? I can help, I don't mind."[/fieldbox]
 
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[fieldbox="Evelyn Kelley : Blue Eyes, #80b3d1, solid"]Evelyn had her hand extended in anticipating of receiving a nice hot cup of coffee, when another sensation brushed against her delicate skin. Someone had grabbed her hand, and by instinct, she recoiled. Sudden motions more often warranted fear than trust, Evelyn being unable to determine what was on the other end of the touch most times.

"I'm sorry, do I know you? From anywhere?" Evelyn asked. Her voice bordered on defensive behavior, as she had to fall back to in uncertainty.

There was a particular air about him, something undetectable to anyone but herself. Heightened senses gave Evelyn some small skill in recognizing voices, and his was one she'd heard before, but again she was unable to discern where from. Only problem now, she didn't have any memory of holding a conversation with the man. It was blatantly obvious the pair had never spoken face to face before the current moment in time.

Who is this guy...I don't need his help.

"Oh. My. God." Tyler's voice brought her out of the confusion. "Are you...? Mr. Banks, I am a huge fan."

It wasn't ringing any bells. Mr. Banks? Evelyn didn't personally know anyone with the last name. Although she had some distant memory of her father mentioning the name, again there was no clear memory. She wanted to brush him off, but his gesture was out of a need to help the blind girl. It never sat right with Evelyn, making her feel the spectacle she was, the damsel in distress who always needed another man's help in order to sit down. Well, she was fully capable and she damn well knew it.

She smiled sweetly, a feigned look of thanks. "Please, don't worry yourself with it. I was heading home, and I'll be fine." Had he looked carefully enough this Mr. Banks would have sensed the irritation in her voice.

"Evelyn, that's Brackston Banks, don't you know who he is?" Tyler hissed excitedly across the counter. She could feel the hot air coming from his lips, so close to the edge of her ear. "He's been in like, a hundred awesome movies."

"I'm fine." Evelyn mumbled. "I can walk myself where I need to."[/fieldbox]
 
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[fieldbox="Brackston Banks; Hollywood Heartthrob, silver, solid"]
A hundred awesome movies? Is that a joke? He would have snorted and called the barista an idiot if he wasn't occupied on someone else, something much more important. The movies Brackston had starred in were a bunch of action-packed macho man films that he couldn't care less about--being typecast was something he never wanted in his career, and that was exactly where he was headed. A part of him was thankful she was blind. She wouldn't be like most women and ask to feel his muscles or repeat some stupid line that made them giggle with girlish glee.

I just want this to be over. Now.

"Nah, it's okay. I was just leaving too. I don't need to help you or anything, you look pretty well off, especially with the dog." Brackston looked down to the massive Shepherd and knelt, petting the top of his head cautiously. The beast seemed friendly enough, sniffing Brackston's hand in an impromptu inspection. "Still though, there's a parade out in the streets today. I wouldn't mind helping you take a detour so you don't have to get caught up with all those people."

He looked over to where his agent had been sitting for assurance that this was what she wanted, only to find that she was gone.

Dammit, Genna. I knew you'd throw me to the wolves.

Already, the small cornerstreet shop was buzzing over the sight of a celebrity within it. People were taking out their phones and snapping pictures and sending tweets and texts, too knowledgeable of his irritable attitude to approach him for which he was quite thankful. The media was not something he relished, nor the attention of others. It almost made him regret his decision to help the young woman who would never see his face, but he was in too deep and there was no turning back anymore. That would only counteract the effort he had already made. He had no desire to see the situation fire back in his face.

Brackston stood straight once again, facing her, though he felt awkward that he remained unseen.

"LA isn't the safest place, especially with people crowded in the streets like that. You'd be an easy target for a thief or something. No offense, of course." He tried to ignore the gathering people, offering a hand, forgetting yet again that it was invisible to her.

"Name's Brackston, like the guy said," he clarified. "I'm no threat to you."

Can't make any promises about the media, though.[/fieldbox]
 
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[fieldbox="Evelyn Kelley : Blue Eyes, #80b3d1, solid"]Evelyn paused in thought. Ever since she was a child, the first instinct to be engraved in her mind was to never accept help from a stranger, especially from another man. There was no telling where he'd lead her, or if he'd let her go. Trusting strangers was too high a risk for a girl with no sight, but that didn't mean she couldn't see the distress in his voice.

He sounded pained, as if forcing a conversation on the poor girl. The man, Brackston, didn't have to go out of his way, and yet he was being polite enough to offer a blind girl assistance weaving around a parade.

Give him a chance. Of all people, you shouldn't be the one to judge anyone.

"My name is Evelyn." She plucked the sunglasses from her face to reveal her clouded blue eyes. She'd been told they looked hazy, like that of a corpse long gone from the earth. The description wasn't far off, what with a corpse and her eyes being rather useless, dead. On the other hand, they held a beauty on their own, a uniqueness in the notion they were sightless, a mere design flaw on an otherwise pretty face.

Evelyn pulled Thor closer on his leash until she could feel his tail wagging into the back of her legs. She could hear him panting slightly, feel the hot breath through the fabric of her jeans.

"The only real threat here is Thor, but he's pretty tame. You can pet him if you want. He won't bite." Evelyn pulled up her hand and held it awkwardly in front of her body. There was no way of knowing if he would shake her hand. She could only blindly hope that he'd take up hers in an attempt to introduce herself.

The atmosphere felt thick around her. Too many eyes held their focus on the star before her, and Evelyn didn't have the eyes to see it herself. She could only feel the way the air enclosed around her, a kind of claustrophobia out in the open as the masses swelled around her. Crowds never made her feel very good, so Evelyn decided right then and there taking the man's offer would be worthwhile. Besides, she thought, Thor would only attract unwanted attention from children who wandered from the parade. It would take hours just to get back home.

"I can recite my address, if you'll lead the way then." Evelyn still held her hand, waiting.[/fieldbox]
 
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[fieldbox="Brackston Banks; Hollywood Heartthrob, silver, solid"]
Brackston was instantly stunned by her eyes. For a moment, the actor was grateful that she couldn't see his reaction in fear he might offend her further than he assumed he had, but seconds passed between them and he couldn't help but appreciate the pale blue color of her irises, lost to the world of uselessness. Brackston didn't see them as useless, though. As selfish as it was, he found himself envying her in the slightest bit as the relieving notion of not seeing a thing could sometimes be attractive. Her eyes had a unique beauty all of their own, the color of ice and pale blue skies, yet dull like an empty husk of what should have been. He realized that the split second of envy was cold even for him, and chased the thought away from his narcissistic mind.

Maybe Genna's right. he realized. Maybe I really do need this.

The thought was not appealing.

"Evelyn," he repeated. "That's a nice name. It's great to meet you, Evelyn. I'm Brackston, as that barista guy already said. Brackston Banks." He had no hesitations in taking her hand, soft and gentle as it was, and shaking it for the polite amount of time. "The parade is just down Broad Street, you can tell me your address when we get outside. I know my way around the city well, I shouldn't have a problem getting you where you need to go. Consider me your personal chauffeur...or whatever they're called. Something along those lines."

Brackston knew he was in over his head. He hadn't the slightest idea what it meant to walk beside a blind person, much less lead her somewhere that he himself didn't know. Should he offer her his arm? Should he hold her hand? Should he tell her when she was about to walk into something, or did her guide dog and cane do all of that for her? Brackston wasn't known for his compassion or his sense of intuition, and he wished that Genna hadn't abandoned him without at least giving him a few tips first, but he supposed as long as the media got their pictures and Evelyn made it home safe then nothing else mattered.

Just don't let her run into a car, Brackston. That'll do the trick.

"Come on," he told her with an encouraging tone, forgetting momentarily that she could not see his smile.

"Don't worry. I'll lead you back home."

Somehow.[/fieldbox]
 
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[fieldbox="Evelyn Kelley : Blue Eyes, #80b3d1, solid"]Evelyn put her hand back down, pleased that Brackston had been polite enough to connect their greeting. A good handshake was almost necessary as a means of introduction to the blind girl. The strong or weak grip allowed her to receive some sort of gauge to how a stranger perceived the situation. More often than not, a weak grip meant the person was nervous, and she knew to lighten up on the whole blind ordeal. Brackston didn't seem too nervous, but it seemed as if he was doing his damnedest to be a gentleman.

"I trust you will." Evelyn attempted a small smile.

She pulled against the leash of her trusty companion. Evelyn could feel the breeze of his tail wagging against the back of her leg, thick bristles of dog hair accompanied the rhythmic pat, pat, pat. She liked to imagine the way Thor's tongue lolled out of his mouth, the dumb grin on his face or the glimmer of obedience in his eyes, but none of the images formed any solid connections in her mind. The world had never presented itself in means of color, shape, or shade. All that was left was a small bit of imagination, and the lackluster descriptions of strangers on the street. For all Evelyn knew, he was bright green and his tongue was orange.

Whatever that looked like, anyways.

"Thor," She said with an air of authority. "Up. Let's go home."

The dog's ears perked up. His master had made a command, and he was well trained enough to lead her out of the coffee shop without a bark of protest. He was hesitant, though, leading more than one person wasn't what he was accustomed to. Every few steps, Thor would stop, turn his head to the side, and check to see that both master and company were in tow. As if he knew the man was a friend, he sauntered on, the only person aware of his suspicion was unable to see the signs in his face.

I suppose I should say something. He was nice enough to offer me a walk home...he's probably pretty busy as it is. I can't believe it, an actor?

"Don't be so nervous, by the way." Evelyn stared blankly ahead, unable to locate Brackston by his footsteps alone. His voice came from above her own head, suggesting he towered well over her own, but looking blindly for an unfamiliar face usually made people feel awkward. "I live just outside the city,well, at least where the houses really start, little house next to the corner. I think it's at the edge, never really seen it myself. I came in on Broad, but, the parade wasn't really in full swing yet...I suppose making it back would be rather difficult on my own. I'm glad I ran into you. Thank you."

She honestly meant it, and followed up with an earnest smile while her eyes were dead set on the space in front of her.

"Just tell me if you're turning, or Thor. My dog, that's his name by the way." Evelyn was blabbering now. "He's pretty good with people, he'll listen to you if you're commanding enough."[/fieldbox]
 
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[fieldbox="Brackston Banks; Hollywood Heartthrob, silver, solid"]
It was a strange sensation indeed, walking at the side of someone who couldn't see him. Brackston had never thought about how often he appreciated looking into the emotion people's eyes and seeing their various expressions as he spoke to them. Simply one of the many little gestures he had taken advantage of over the course of his life, he supposed, though when Evelyn's lips curled upwards he wondered why he found himself so desperate to view the full effect.

He found that he actually wanted her to look at him, just so he could see more of her smile.

"Nervous?" Brackston inquired with a little laugh, scratching the side of his neck rather awkwardly. "I'm surprised you could tell. Sorry. I don't mean to be rude or anything, I've just never been in charge of someone like this before..."

Instantly, he held up his hands in defense. Only later did he remember that she never saw it.

"Ah--not that you're a burden or anything, I'm not saying that at all, it's just...I'd hate to be responsible if something bad happened. But you're welcome for the help, I've lived here a long time, I know the area pretty well..."

Shit. Can I be any more ridiculous? Brackston prided himself on being charismatic and charming in the presence of any and all, constantly in a state of winning others over with an act he had spent many years perfecting, but the blind girl had him fumbling over language like a toddler and he could provide no logical explanation for the disturbance. Bothered, Brackston turned away from her and faced forward, leaving the important job of navigation to the trusty canine sidekick until the parade detours came upon them.

"Thor...again, a nice name. He doesn't seem like the type to bite. I guess he can't be, if he's a guide dog." Brackston ran dark fingers through his hair. "Up here, take a left. Come on, boy. Left."

The dog was quick to obey. He led the cautious the teen around the corner and down the hill of the detour, making sure to alert her of the slope of the concrete when the descent began.

"Watch out, now," Brackston told her in a low voice. "We're going down a hill. Pretty steep. There's hardly anyone on the sidewalk though...do you need to take my hand?"

Without thinking, he placed a large hand in a ghost-like touch on the small of her back.[/fieldbox]
 
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[fieldbox="Evelyn Kelley : Blue Eyes, #80b3d1, solid"]That was a quirk about being blind, Evelyn knew what other people were feeling by the tension in the air. It was somewhat similar to shifting eyes, and swaying bodies when they were nervous, or the sweat that beaded up on their brow under extreme anxiety. All the natural responses of the body which Evelyn couldn't see, she could feel through tone and touch. It wasn't something she could really explain to Brackston, more of a gut feeling if anything else. In a less crowded space, when the air calmed and she could focus more intently on the sounds around her, she could identify her friends by footsteps alone. Her father had heavy, harsh steps, from flat feet and a large body, whereas her mother had a soft and dainty walk about her. The differences were subtle to the untrained ear, but a siren to the blind.

It seemed she'd hit the nail on the head when she pointed out his nervousness. She let out a small sigh, and a polite smile to show she meant no harm in her interjection. He was babbling just as she'd done, only he worried about the same details every one else did. Sight, and liabilities. What problems they could encounter when touring the blind down the street were innumerable, and the ever present possibility of danger put companions on edge more often than not. Now was no different, Brackston tensed his arm as they declined the slope and placed his hand against her back. Even then she could feel his arm tensing.

"That's alright, but thank you." Evelyn was more than capable of managing a small slope, but she still appreciated the hand to steady her steps. Evelyn turned towards the sound of his voice, somewhere above her own head, and tried to smile. In doing so she skipped down the slope awkwardly after tripping on a crack in the pavement. She hopped on her foot and reached instinctively out with her hands to grab something. Lucky for her, slip ups such as these were common enough, and she'd long learned to deal with the balancing act.

Although, it didn't help to show she was capable of much.

When she stopped, so did Thor. His ears perked up in worried curiosity, but he didn't bark in protest. He was bound to his master more so than she was bound to his lead. He's going to think I stumble around all the time if I do that again. Thor returned to Evelyn's side and nipped at her hand, a casual way of checking on his master. In response, she scratched his ear and patted him away, back to the front of the pair.

"Sorry, I guess I should pay more attention." Evelyn giggled, it was full of charm and genuine laughter at her own embarrassment. "Give me your hand before I make a complete fool of myself, and don't worry so much. Really. I've been blind my whole life, I'm used to people acting different around me. I'm blind, not stupid. So long as you keep me out of the street, I think we'll be okay. Between Thor and you, I'm sure I'll make it home in one piece."

The blind teen held out her hand to the side, anticipating for Brackston to be there, judging from the slight touch at her skin. Her eyes remained steadfast on the space in front of her, but still, they were void of any emotion. It was an unfortunate side effect to her blindness. Cold, hard, and colorless, three adequate words to describe her sightless eyes. They always had the appearance of looking bored, either that, or focused on something far away. Evelyn still hadn't learned to follow sounds so effortlessly, and attempting to follow a voice with her dead eyes was harder than it seemed. Looking at a stranger in that way felt so unfair.

"I know it's gotta be weird for you, too. I probably haven't even looked at you once." She said, in attempt to make him feel better about his anxiousness. "Really, you're doing just fine."[/fieldbox]
 
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[fieldbox="Brackston Banks; Hollywood Heartthrob, silver, solid"]
Brackston nearly stumbled over himself as she did, so focused on the precision and protection of her movements that he almost forgot about his own entirely. "Are you okay? You're not hurt?" he inquired almost instantly after the fact, scanning her legs and feet for any sign of a scrape though her skin never met the pavement. The dog seemed to be just as concerned as he was, though absent of Brackston's ever-present fear. The canine licked his master's hand to ensure her safety and the man at her side cracked a little grin at his own embarrassing hesitations.

"Oh, you're fine. Good. That's...good." Brackston cleared his throat and held out his arm once more, a little on edge even still. "Here, take my hand. Or, wait. I'll take yours." She can't see where mine is. He slowly slipped his rough fingers with the porcelain softness of hers, ever so gently guiding Evelyn forward along the sidewalk with Thor's obedient assistance. The trio descended the remainder of the steep hill, and man and dog took their blind companion around two more corners through the curved lines of the parade detour. Despite her steadiness on level ground he did not let go of her fragile hand.

A part of him liked seeing the mixture of light and dark tones on their skin, meshed as one. It was symbolic of something he hadn't known much of.

When Evelyn had recited the address once more for his clarification, Brackston glanced at the street sign on the corner and over towards the quaint little house on the dampened streetside, reading the numbers correctly to confirm their arrival. The low-hued paint on the home was a pleasant mix of calm, cooling colors, though the space within its walls didn't seem to be very big and there certainly wasn't much of a yard for Thor, or so Brackston could judge. He pointed to the house after his thoughts subsided and tuned to her for acknowledgment.

"Is that it?" he asked. "Wait. Shit. I mean, uh. I think I found it. Heh." I keep forgetting she can't see a thing. Brackston gave an awkward little laugh, still holding her hand in his despite the anxiety he felt at the contact even then. White house with blue trim? he almost inquired once more, much to his inner dismay. "Here, let's cross the street and hope that I didn't lead you into the middle of nowhere. That would be bad. Very bad." He led her across the paved, silent street, and up to the front door of the humble abode that would mean either damnation or salvation for his stupidly pointless endeavor. Brackston swallowed the nervous lump in his throat.

How am I supposed to explain my presence to her parents?

Dammit, Genna. I hate you.

There wasn't much else he could do. Brackston raised his free hand and gave a soft few knocks at the door, preparing himself for whatever would greet him.[/fieldbox]
 
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[fieldbox="Evelyn Kelley : Blue Eyes, #80b3d1, solid"]Evelyn reluctantly pulled her hand away from Brackston's to feel the surface of the front door. The grain of the wood, a small chip near the key hole, it was definitely her home. She could feel it against her palm. There came a set of vibrations from behind the door, light footsteps she recognized as her mother, before the door swung open from underneath her hand and an airy voice greeted them both.

"Eva, sweetie, oh I'm so glad you made it home alright. I forgot to tell you about the parade, and, oh, your father was so worried." Two clammy hands touched the sides of Evelyn's face, met with a warmth and blush the teen didn't realize was there. "Oh, your face is all red! Are you feeling okay?"

"Mom, I'm fine." Evelyn sighed. The common ritual between mother and daughter began, but Brackston's presence cut it short before Evelyn's mother could display her paranoia.

"Oh, hello there, are you a friend of Evelyn's?"

"This is Brackston." Evelyn introduced her companion. "He walked me home because of the parade. You know Thor doesn't always do his best in large crowds anyways, pain in my-"

"It's lovely to meet you, my name is Judith, please, come inside. We're just about to have dinner." Judith stuck out her hand and pulled Brackston inside the house against his will, cutting off the teasing and name calling between Evelyn and Thor. Evelyn walked herself over the threshold and released her dog into the home. He seemed glad to be free of his guide duties, and immediately darted to the far back of the home in search of a long drink of water. She listened to the sound of his nails against the hard wood until he stopped, and all was quiet again.

Inside, the home appeared much larger than the outward facade let on. It was longer than it was wide, with a living area set directly in the front of the home, which lead to a kitchen and dining room in the far back. A single hallway connected all three rooms with open doors, walls cutting off one room from the next. A single staircase ran along the left side of the home, leading up to the second floor. Narrow as it was, there was still plenty of light, and definitely enough room to house the small family.

Judith sat herself down on the single long sofa in the living room. There were two reclining chairs against the far wall, leaving enough room for the centerpiece and pride of the front of the home. A large grand piano sat nestled in the corner, a small bench wedged between the assorted furniture with just enough room for two people to sit.

"Thank you for taking Eva home, Brackston was it? I can't help but worry about her when she goes out." Judith admitted.[/fieldbox]
 
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[fieldbox="Brackston Banks; Hollywood Heartthrob, silver, solid"]
Brackston opened his mouth to get a word in, to offer his nonchalance in the favor and go on his merry way once more, but the surprisingly strong woman took him by the wrist and pulled him into the subtle suburban home. He was given no choice in the offer to stay for dinner despite their stranger status. Brackston was raised not to refuse a mother when she made homely demands, and this woman was certainly demanding much to his own dismay. He awkwardly stepped further into the room and rubbed his wrist where she had grabbed him, pondering what the hell he had gotten himself into.

I can't stand it when people grab me like that, he thought, calming the anxious urge to fight that rose within him. But she's a woman. It's okay.

I'm not in any danger here.

"Uh...dinner?" Brackston said with a small chuckle. "Thanks. That's nice of you. I can't blame you for worrying either...she's your daughter after all." He shoved his hands in his pockets and watched Thor trample around the house in excitement before coming to rest atop the collection of blankets in the corner which undoubtedly made up his bed. Silence fell over the room, save for the clacks and clangs of pots and pans and cooking going on in the room just beyond.

This has turned into one incredibly awkward afternoon.

The home within the humble walls was a bit more than Brackston initially expected from his judgments on the outside, luxury to his old life, quaint and small to his new one. Modest decor smothered the walls and the furniture was simple in stature and hue, though widely spread apart, most likely to grant Evelyn easier access as she maneuvered throughout the home. He noticed plenty of paintings of the hills in Ireland and old Celtic proverbs, a few Christian crosses, a modestly-sized television--altogether it was nothing superbly impressive, but Brackston hadn't expected such. He stood in the middle of the room, unsure of what to do as he examined his most intriguing surroundings.

"So, uh...what's for dinner?" he inquired, looking back to Evelyn and her spritely spirited mother. "I don't have any food allergies, so don't worry about it. I'll eat whatever is served. Thanks again for the offer, it's really sweet. Generous."

Now that he wasn't alone with the girl, he had found his voice once again.[/fieldbox]
 
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[fieldbox="Evelyn Kelley : Blue Eyes, #80b3d1, solid"]There was Judith, fair in stature with an olive complexion reminisce of her long past Greek heritage, or so she claimed. Her hair was a shady mix of blonde and brown, with a peppered mix of gray now that she'd aged. Her skin was covered in freckles, and it was clear to see where Evelyn had inherited that trait, but as for the red hair and porcelain skin? That was all thanks to her father, who had finally come barreling from the kitchen to make sense of the extra voice in his front room.

"Dear, wass'all this noise out here?" he asked.

"Oh, yes, Brackston, this is my husband, Brian." Judith stood from her spot on the sofa and forced Evelyn's father to close the gap between himself and the stranger.

Then, there was Brian. the rest of Evelyn's inherited traits came so obviously from this one man alone, it was astounding to see him standing side by side with his daughter. They shared the same fiery red hair, only Brian had a thick beard covering his chin. The hair on his head was still thick, like that of his youth, and tied back with a small rubber band to keep it out of the way as he cooked. His thick Irish accent overwhelmed most people, intimated them into thinking he was a brute of sorts. Sometimes, he was, when he acted like a bear protecting his young cub Evelyn, the claws and teeth barred angrily to strangers who tried to get in the way of his precious child. Get the man drunk, though, and he turned into a soft teddy bear with a passion for his home country like no other.

"What the hell do you think your doin' son?" Brian huffed. "What're you doin' with my daughter?"

"Dad, no, that's not-" Evelyn interjected.

"Evelyn, you know better than to let strangers take ya home."

"I made it back didn't I?" Evelyn asked. She stepped between her father and Brackston, mechanically following the sounds of their voices in order to maneuver into the perfect spot. Soon after, her father tapped her hand. It was a polite way of telling her 'yes, I'm standing here in front of you, very close' without verbally saying so. "He was kind enough to guide me around the parade when Thor would've just gotten confused. Let him have dinner with us, you'll see, he was only doing what he thought was right."

Brian sighed. He looked down into his daughter's eyes lovingly and cracked a small smile. There was no denying his only daughter when she asked so sweetly. She looked up at him with her clouded blue eyes, and he looked down with a reflection of what they should have been. Brian's eyes were a soft shade of blue, the iris lined with a white circle which made his eyes look all the paler. Only, his had sight, and hers did not.

"Come on then, Brackston, my daughter says you're alright, then ya must be." Brian stuck out his hand to shake the man's. "Dinner's ready, sit down for a time."[/fieldbox]
 
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[fieldbox="Brackston Banks; Hollywood Heartthrob, silver, solid"]
Brackston was instantly caught off-guard by the raging Irish accent that smacked into his ears the first moment he opened his mouth. The stout little man was exceedingly protective of his daughter, so it seemed, and for a moment Brackston himself tensed under the judgment he was no doubt receiving, but when Evelyn came to his defense there was no denying the simple warmth his heart felt. Most would have taken the gesture of good faith and left, never to speak to the kind stranger who helped them across the street again. Instead, she had invited him inside for dinner, even held his hand as they'd walked.

Why...?

Who the hell are these people?

"Uh...thanks," came his tense reply. Brackston was always anxious around other men for justifiable reasons, and the red-haired brute hadn't exactly made a friendly first impression. "It smells good."

"It is good, dear," said Judith. "One of my mother's recipes, she loved to make this stuff. Don't be afraid to take a seat!" The woman of the house gestured to one of the six chairs surrounding an oval-shaped table, and Brackston sat at her request, much more obliged to listen to the woman. He remained in the chair until she had placed a massive bowl of spaghetti, enough to feed ten should she so desire, atop the table along with french bread and a fresh batch of salad. The blind girl sat at his side and her parents took their places across from them, and Brackston nearly laughed outright at the thought.

This reminds of a scene from Meet the Parents. How screwed up is that?

"Shall we pray?" asked Judith. The family linked hands and Brackston was reluctant to follow, once again lacing his rough fingers in with the delicate porcelain of Evelyn's.

...how the hell do I pray?[/fieldbox]
 
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[fieldbox="Evelyn Kelley : Blue Eyes, #80b3d1, solid"]A smile crept up on Evelyn's face as Brackston took her hand in his once more. Through touch, she could feel his anxiety budding through his tense hold. She idly wondered if he'd ever had to pray before, not all families sat down together at dinner and recited a simple prayer each meal. For all Evelyn knew, he ate alone in front of a television, without a care for thanks or grace.

She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, as if to remind him, Don't be so nervous. The small smile she wanted to share was gone, not knowing if she had reached Brackston at all.

"Thank you God for this day, and our food and our family, bless this meal to our bodies and thank you to Brackston for bringing Evelyn back home to us, amen." Judith said simply, ending her blessing with a smile and a bow of her head towards their new guest. "Now, shall we eat?"

"Evelyn, how much would'ya like?" Brian asked casually. Evelyn contemplated a portion for a moment before settling on a small stack of spaghetti with a healthy portion of bread to go with her meal. Her father dished out what she requested, and placed it in a spot close to the edge of the table on her side.

She placed her hand at the side of the wooden table and fingered the edge of the plate as she often did since she was a child. In this way, she was able to locate what had been set before her, able to asses before she had to eat. It was all a process, which had been refined to taps, touches, and nudges. Now, almost every object had a place in her mind's eye, and Evelyn navigated through various dishes like a pro. She drank water from a cup, stabbed a few noodles, and if one hadn't bothered to ask about her eyes, nothing would have appeared out of order.

"So, Brackston. Whaddya do for a livin'?" Brian asked. He was halfway around the table, serving plates to be polite, and had gotten to Brackston.[/fieldbox]
 
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[fieldbox="Brackston Banks; Hollywood Heartthrob, silver, solid"]
For the hundredth time in the incredibly short and surprisingly eventful day, Brackston was once again left entirely bewildered by the Kelleys and their hospitality. Evelyn squeezed his hand and his heart reacted in such a manner with which he was most unfamiliar, her father pressed him with eager questions, her mother even prayed for him. All after being pressured by his agent into assisting a blind girl for the sake of some greedy media attention and a boost to his slowly-slipping career.

How could I have seen any of this coming? he asked to himself, clearing his throat as the man of the house addressed him once more.

This is about to get incredibly awkward.

"Me? I, uh. I'm an actor, actually. I have been my whole life." Please, please don't know any of my movies, Brackston pleaded inwardly as he scooped up a great spoonful of pasta and dropped it on his plate. "I've been acting for about twelve years now. Ugly business, but it definitely has its perks." Brackston took the great bowl of spaghetti and placed it back in the center of the table, helping himself to a piece of French bread and a side of fresh green salad. He was always the kind of man that ate in highly above average amounts, mostly due to the vigorous nature of his workout routines and exercising schedule. No doubt the family that had taken him in would be shocked at the entirety of what he intended to consume, but it didn't matter to him in the slightest. For all he knew, he wouldn't see these people again when he walked out the door a mere hour from the current time. I don't want to stay much longer than that.

"Brackston...Banks?" Judith inquired pensively.

Shit. Here we go.

"Oh! Oh! Brian, darling! Oooh! It's Brackston Banks, he plays that handsome gunslinger in Hitmen and the gang leader in, oh, what was it, what was it..."

Brackston sighed. "Empire. It was Empire."

"Yes! Brian, we have a celebrity in our midst! Oh, oh, I need to find something for you to sign..."

I'd prefer it if you didn't. Brackston tried his best to remain polite for the people that had so graciously opened their home to him, but even he had his limits and he hated being put on the spot. He started eating the pasta as a means of distraction, remaining silent on how well it tasted, simply wishing he could disappear from the situation entirely.[/fieldbox]
 
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[fieldbox="Evelyn Kelley : Blue Eyes, #80b3d1, solid"]She could hear the soft sound of a pen on paper just beneath silverware clinking against glossy plates. The shout of glee she recognized as her mother's voice was a bit surprising. Actors were famous, Evelyn knew this, but she hardly had the time or patience to sit and keep up with their lives when the majority of information was posted on either a magazine, which she couldn't read, or played on the nightly news, which she didn't watch. It was cumbersome to watch television, so when Brackston casually mentioned a few titles, she spoke up softly.

"What's Empire?" Evelyn asked.

"A movie, about some gangs and things." It was her father who made the reply. He didn't seem to have much interest by the tone of his voice, but Judith on the other hand was enthralled to have a star in her home. "We've watched it before, your mother and I."

"...Oh." Was Evelyn's response. She, much like Brackston, decided that cramming a mouthful of bread into her face was the best way to avoid any further conversation on the matter. Movies, television in general, wasn''t something Evelyn was an avid fan of. She'd tried once to sit through a marathon of Harry Potter with a few of her friends in her early teen years, but she found the constant yelling and lack of verbal cues to be annoying. Half the time they yelled spells, and the other half she couldn't see what they were reacting to. They had subtitles for the deaf and hard of hearing, but it was an impossible act to get the blind to see the actors wave around their magic wands on a black screen that was all but invisible to her. Even her friends stopped answering her questions sometime through the second film, and Evelyn decided it was best she left.

It was a somber memory of her casual attempt at normal socialization that had failed miserably.

"Wait just a minute now, Brackston, how is it, of all people, a celebrity like yerself just happens to offer himself up as a temporary guide?" Brian asked in an accusatory manner. "No offense laddy, you ain't exactly known for your kind hearted personality."

"Dad!" "Brian!" Came the chorus of mother and daughter as they both glared at Brian Kelley. He shrugged, honestly curious as to what was so wrong with his statement. Brackston certainly had a reputation about it, and none of it entailed charity events or hospital visits around the state. No, he was more infamous for his collection of athletic sneakers and expensive tastes in cars. This of course, Evelyn had no idea about, but Brian at least scanned the local celebrity articles.

"What's to say this ain't a way to make him look a little better, now?" Brian asked.

"That's enough!" Evelyn all but shrieked. She slapped her hand on the table to call attention to herself, and ended up projecting her spoon off the end of the table. It clattered on the floor just before Thor went to examine the dropped cutlery. She could feel the eyes on herself, silence had never sounded so thick. "Come on, dad, he's our guest right now, and you're gonna act up about it now? He's a good guy! I could've fallen into the parade, gotten hit by a car from the detours, Brackston was just being nice."

"Sweet heart, you don't know 'im-"

"Neither do you." Evelyn retorted. "So can you just, stop, please?"

Little blue eyes cracked a sad smile in an attempt to get her irrational father to calm down. She hadn't the faintest idea if it had any effect on the man, it was usually a fifty fifty shot that her eyes could do any of the talking. He seemed to calm down some, and the previous noise of his fork against the bottom of his plate resumed, a noisy slurp followed up soon after. Only, immediately after, Evelyn heard his heavy footsteps retreating to the front of the house, the stairs began to creak under his weight, and soon Brian was gone.

"Oh, Brackston, I'm so sorry." Judith apologized. Her face was flush red with embarrassment. "We all get a little worried about her, you can understand. You're the first person to ever really take her all the way home, I guess, well, Brian must be a little skeptical. I'm so, so sorry."

I can feel it. Evelyn thought. Brackston is so tense, it's crazy. Mom wants his autograph, dad wants him out of the house. All he wanted to do was escort me home, and now I've made him sit through a dinner with my family. God, I bet he doesn't want to be here right now. He could be back in his own...place, apartment, thing, eating a five star meal if he wanted.

"Me, too." Evelyn sighed. "I should've just made you leave. You didn't have to take me back here. I would've made it...eventually."[/fieldbox]
 
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[fieldbox="Brackston Banks; Hollywood Heartthrob, silver, solid"]
Brackston's jaw visibly tightened, his voice ready to burst in a wave of incredulous self-defense until Brian took a much-needed leave and the room fell to uncomfortable silence. Judith offered her sincerest apologies and he listened to none of them. He rose promptly from the table and placed the cloth napkin atop his filled plate, shaking his head despite the Kelley family's protests.

"Maybe you could've, Evelyn," he stated with a hint of frustration. "My bad. I'll think better of it next time."

"Oh, Mister Banks, you don't have to--"

"Forget it ma'am. The old man's right. Apparently a bad guy can't do a good thing."

"Brian is harmless, really..."

"Don't care. Sorry for helping." He moved past Evelyn and Judith with the intent to leave, but before he made it to the door he stopped himself, turning to face the two women with a sour look on his face. "Thanks for dinner anyway, I guess. Here's my number if you need me to suggest any better tour guides for you: 1-800-PISS-OFF. Have a great night."

Brackston exited the home and nearly slammed the door behind him. He descended the stairs and dreaded the drive back to his downtown apartment, which he couldn't even begin until he walked all the way back to the coffee shop to retrieve his vehicle. "Ungrateful...stupid," he muttered on his ascension up the steep hill. When he reached the top, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He retrieved it to answer the call.

"What?"

"How'd it go?" Genna asked with a sick curiosity.

"Fucking dumb. The dad told me I was a bad guy and that he didn't want me around his daughter. As if I'd ever see her again anyway."

"Shit," Genna groaned. "What did you do, then?"

"Stormed out and told them all to piss off."

"Are you kidding me, Brackston? What makes you think they're not going to tell the media about that kind of outburst! This whole idea was--"

"You know what, Genna? This was your fucking idea. I don't want to hear it. You can piss off too, for all I care." He hung up the phone angrily and threw it across the road, watching it shatter on the opposite end of the concrete, thankful that no one was around to witness the outburst.

I can never be perfect. People should stop telling me that I should be.[/fieldbox]
 
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[fieldbox="Evelyn Kelley : Blue Eyes, #80b3d1, solid"]Evelyn had spent the whole night reflecting on what had gone so wrong. Her parents collectively said no more than a few words to her before she'd slipped away into the realm of dreams. Something was direly wrong, they were upset, but the blind girl couldn't see what had caused them to act as they had. Brackston had done the girl a favor by taking her home, so why was it her father had reacted the way he did? Judith didn't even try to stop him that time, she'd let him go on his little rampage about the integrity of the celebrity who graced their dining room.

She wanted to believe, deep down somewhere, that all people were inherently good. Being blind, it was hard to see a man's true intention from action alone. Whether or not he lied or cheated, or stole something right out of Evelyn's pocket, she had to believe in the better being of every man's soul. If she didn't, the world was too dark and terrible for her to want to live in, knowing she couldn't put her faith in a single person she met so long as she couldn't keep a watchful eye over them. All she had experienced was one man's kindness as he kept her on the road, even held her hand when no one else dared to come too close for fear of stumbling at her side. Brian had no right to call Brackston out the way he did. If every time a man was called out for his wrongdoings, he'd only be remembered for the pain he brought about on his mother the day he was born, and every guilty action thereafter.

Evelyn hated the way she felt over letting Brackston leave, the guilt ate at her all night as she tried to sleep, and when the sun finally rose in the sky, the feeling had only festered further into the depths of her gut.

For the first time, in a long time, she was angry at her father for defending his daughter's safety. This time, he was in the wrong.

"Got your phone?" Judith asked mechanically. Evelyn nodded. "Just around the block, okay? It's supposed to rain later, it's already looking cloudy...you'd better take this."

Evelyn felt the slick fabric of an umbrella being pushed into her hands, but she pressed it back away. She was only going around the block with Thor for exercise. There was only so much space in the backyard for the dog to stretch his muscles, even though he still had room to play indoors. It wasn't enough to substitute the required amount of physical activity, and thus, the daily walks which drove Judith mad with worry.

It never rains.

"It's fine, mom, if it starts to rain, we can just run back. Isn't that right boy? Huh?" Evelyn knelt on the wooden floor, and Thor immediately bounded up to her waiting hands. His collar clacked wildly with the metal tags, and his thick harness made it hard for Evelyn to give him a good rub down, but she found his fur, and nuzzled her hands against every patch of him. He covered her in slobber with thick amounts of affection. "You're such a good boy!"

"I mean it, young lady, now get going." Judith handed her daughter a coat, and sent her on her way out the door.

"Evelyn! You were seen yesterday with Brackston Banks, did he-"
"Miss Kelley, how do you know Mr. Banks?"
"Over here!"


Thor retreated to Evelyn's side as she tried to comprehend what was going on. She tried moving forward, past the noise and buzz, but something hard smacked her in the nose. It felt like it was a mass of wires, and it screeched hard when she hit it. She raised her hand, and met more of the same slim devices, often times colliding with someone's arm in the process. There was a mob of people surrounding her and she was lost in the middle of it. Instead of moving forward, she stepped back, but met the same fate. Again, she collided with something.

The paparazzi had been quick on her trail when they saw Brackston walking around in the suburbs of L.A. It wasn't typical for the star to be out on his own like that, especially just walking. He liked his shoes, and he liked his cars, so he did both a favor by driving whatever vehicle he fancied most at the time. Sources confirmed that the red headed girl he was with was the local sweetheart, Evelyn Kelley. A barista at the coffee shop had given up her address in exchange for a quick buck, all privacy was lost just like that. The entire group in Evelyn's front lawn knew she was blind. They took sole advantage of the situation and blocked her off as fast as they could. A news van sat against the curb, more microphones were shoved in Evelyn's face, and she felt suddenly sick to her stomach.

"Now, is it true that you're blind?"
"Can you tell us about Brackston?"


Evelyn. Evelyn. Evelyn! They all called her name.

"H-hey, what is this?" Evelyn stumbled over her words and tried to get a grip on Thor's leash. He was being overly defensive, as he felt threatened by the mass off people closing in on both himself and master. For her own safety, and for that of the crowd, Evelyn reigned in Thor and knelt at his side. She could feel the bristling fur on the back of his neck, and she couldn't help but feel he would snap his fangs at someone soon.

"Evelyn! Evelyn, get inside." The holiest of all angels parted through the mass in the front lawn, and picked up his daughter by the hood of her coat. He yanked her off the ground and tried to make a hasty retreat, but the crowd wasn't yet satisfied with the answers they'd received. Brian Kelley cursed at them all for violating their privacy, but the media were only encouraged by his anger.

What's going on?![/fieldbox]
 
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