So I'm trying out a new idea, I don't know. The concept is still very vague in my mind, but I think by writing it out I might gain a little perspective on it myself, tell me what you think and if I should continue. Thanks :]
Call me Cupid
Are you still searching for the puzzle piece that will fit and fill the void in your empty heart? Are you still waiting for someone to hear your cry? I mean, who doesn’t long for someone to hold, who knows how to love you without being told. – I totally quoted Natasha Bedingfield there by the way - You can call me the one who grants a shortcut in that search. Mix and match it, that’s what I do. And being called Cupid, is something I’ve gotten used to. I’ve never been wrong, and I’m not about to change that. I never miss, because I’m the Cupid of Hollywood. I’ve got a reputation to protect.
My work is very under wraps and private, whatever I discuss with my client stays between me and my client only. Purely confidential and totally safe, I guess that’s why so many hotshot celebrities trust that I’ll do my job discretely. Getting my number is a tough job, and you’ll need to do a lot of digging, or have some deep connections. The effort some of my clients put into, to finding out how to contact me is pretty bizarre at times; it shows how desperate they can be at times, to find a love to hold onto.
It’s just another day, another young and hopeless. My name’s April Ryan, but you can call me Cupid.
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In the bustling city of Manhattan, or as many prefer to call it “The Big Apple” at the local coffee place, sat a girl with her dark brown hair put up into a loose ponytail, a pair of sunglasses shading her emerald green eyes from the burning sun as the beams of light kissed her bare well tanned arms. That girl was me, 19 and Hollywood’s matchmaker armed with bow and arrow, ready to aim for true love.
“Hook, hook me up. I want to feel the rain in my hair. Hook, hook me up. Where should we go I don’t even ca-.”
“This is April Ryan.” My voice chimed, slowly stirring my green tea I listened to a new potential client. “Hey, I heard you were in town. I need your help. Can we meet up to discuss this face to face?” A rough guy’s voice sounded throughout the speakers. My lips curled up into an intrigued little smile. “I’d like to know whose face I’ll be talking to.” I stated, suggesting the caller revealed his identity. “I’m – I’m Mr. Jonas. Central Park by the lake I’ll be sitting on a bench with a purple rose, see you in 10 minutes.”
Click.
Determined. Alright, I’ll give this bloke a shot to say what he has to say. Taking one last sip from my tea I lay a 5 dollar bill on the table as I made a swift exit, heading towards Central Park. Alright, I was at the lake but no sign of this Mr. Jonas. Wait – scratch that, I spotted a curly headed fellow sitting on a bench, holding a purple rose. Cautiously I approached him, not lifting up my shades as I looked the man up and down. “Are you Mr. Jonas?” I asked carefully as a strand of my hair brushed against my forehead. “Only if you’re Cupid.” The bloke replied, yes like I said – most people really did know me as ‘Cupid’, seeing as I didn’t want my personal life and career to collide. “Well, it’s nice to meet you ..?” I said extending my hand, expecting a bit more formal introduction. The guy straightened up, rising up from the bench he handed me the purple rose he had mentioned to be carrying with him when we would meet. “Nick, Nick Jonas. Just for the record, this is .. not concerning me.” He clarified; I was taken by surprise and craved to know his reasons for summoning me. “My brother, Joe – Joe Jonas, he’s been – a little off track lately.” My eyebrows arched, this situation was different, a challenge.
”Alright then, Cupid is at your service.”
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