{Livvie}

I was working the concession stand at my local theater. You could enter your name and a picture of you to win the beauty pageant that was being hosted at the theater. I hadn't entered. Who would be silly enough to vote me?

"The winner of this years annual beauty pageant," the announcer cleared his throat. "Olivia Wellson!"

My ears perked at the sound of my name. _That's me. _I switched the open sign to temporarily closed. I ran out from behind the stand and into the crowd. I found the stairs and ran up.

Panting I said, "that's me. I'm Olivia."

The announcer looked down at the picture, than at me. He nodded, as if approving I didn't steal an identity. He handed over the microphone.

I cleared my throat. " id like to thank all of you who voted for me." cheers erupted throughout the audience. " but, it's kind of weird. I didn't enter this pageant." scilence spread amongst the crowd.

I felt the microphone being taken from my hand. " Olivia Wellson everyone!" Once again, the crowd erupted with cheers.

The lobby was full of people talking about the pageant. I was thinking about the pageant myself. Except, I was thinking about how I was entered. It didn't really matter to me. It just kind of felt like one of those unsolved mysterys. 

"Congrats Olivia." 

The voice sent chills down my spine. 

"Didn't know beauty pageants were your thing." he walked towards the front of me. I couldn't make out his facial expressions. 

"I didn't either," I responded with a slight laugh. 

I could see the slight smirk on his face. Then if hit me. _Noah. _
__
__
I was speechless. "Noah, you..." 

"Yes," he interrupted. "I signed you up for the pageant." 

"But why?" 

"Because, your too pretty."

I blushed. 

" what's up with this mushy talk? What happened to being enemies?" I whined. 

He took a step closer to me. My heart was racing. He smirked. 

"Oh were still enemies alright," he said. 

My face must have done something. 

" I love playing with your emotions," he laughed. 

My face turned red hot again. _DARN IT! He really does know how to play with my emotions. _
__

Noah smirked, as if to say, ** I told you. **
****
****
"What do you want?" I demanded. 

"You," he said. Super nanchilant. 

Just like that my heart was racing again. 

"I really know how to make you blush," he smirked. 

"No you don't!" I exclaimed. 

He was standing directly in front of me. 

"Well then maybe this will."  he leaned in and kissed me. Not just a peck. Full on kissed me! Let me release that one more time. Noah Walker, my all time biggest enemy, is kissing me! 

He's very passionate with this kiss. I'm still to shocked to move. Once I regain controll of my body, I start kissing him back. I wrap my rams around his neck and kiss him back. _Am I sane?! Am I ok?! Why am I kissing Noah Walker?! And why does it feel so good?! _
__

He pulls away. "Like I said, I really know how to make you blush." 

(If you'd like me to make another/part two say yesin the feedback!)

What is love anymore? I feel like every time I’m In love My heart gets pulled out and stomped on What is love anymore? Is it what old people in the park feel ? Is it the people we see haveing fancy dates ? What is love anymore ? Is love even real ?

“CASSIE. CASSIE, DARLING, WHERE ARE YOU?” My mom came tumbling into the kitchen, almost knocking over the flower vase while she was at it. I looked up from my bowl of cereal and saw my mom, who was practically in hysterics, holding an opened emerald green envelope with a gold seal fapping every which way as she ran towards me. Confused, I reached for the envelope when she had finally made it to my side. “What is this?” I asked over my mother’s joyful sobs. The envelope was heavy is my hands, but when I pulled out the letter inside, it was only that - a simple letter. Or so I thought. My mother pulled a tissue out of her back pocket and wiped her eyes dry. “Honey, I am SO proud of you-“ “-Mom-“ “-I would have expected something like this from Hailey, but never from you, my dear Cassie-“ “-Mom!” I shouted, my heart pounding. What was in this letter that made my mom so… whatever she was. Only one way to find out, I thought. “Just, read the letter, honey. I’m so proud of you-“ “Mom.” “Ok, ok.” She was so giddy she looked at if she was going to faint. Slowly, I unfolded the letter, which had been hand written on the thickest, fanciest piece of paper I had ever seen in my entire 16 years of life. It was only until I saw who it was from that I stopped admiring the paper and felt like throwing it away instead.

To Miss Cassie Fray,

Your submitted piece to the nation-wide contest of literature and art has won first place for your social class/age group. As a result, Prince Carter Albertine formally requests your presence at the annual Whitlock Ball, where you will make a speech expressing your love for the kingdom and the Royal Family.

If for some reason you are unable to attend, that is unfortunately unfortunate, in your case. This is a required event. Formal attire will be provided at the Castle, as well as a place to sleep for your required two weeks of attendance.

On Friday, at noon, you will be formally delivered to the castle.

                                                       Sincerely,
                                                 William Williams 
                                                (Royal Organizer)

I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t even move. Who had entered me into this contest? If it hadn’t been my mom… When I finally found my voice, I stood up and glared at my mom. “Who did this?” My mom’s brow furrowed in confusion. Hesitantly, she said, “You entered this contest, Cassie, dear. You wouldn’t have won if you didn’t-“ “I didn’t enter ANY contest, mom! This wasn’t my doing!” I blindly threw the envelope onto the table, which conveniently landed with a plop in my bowl of Frosted Flakes. With a shriek, my mom quickly picked it out of my bowl, fanning it with her hand in the process. Finally, I said, “I’m not going.” My mom laughed. “Oh, yes you are. I don’t care if you don’t want to. You HAVE too. Did you even read the letter?” My mom opened the milk-soaked letter and pointed to the letter. “See?” She said. “William Williams said so himself, dear.” “Any guy with that as his name can kiss my-“ Just then, my younger sister Hailey came bolting into the kitchen, a fake tiara sitting lopsided on her head. “Oh, Cassie! It’s all over the news! No one from our social class has ever been chosen as the winner!” She was speaking unnaturally fast, even for an 11 year old girl. “I just knew you could do it. That’s why I entered you into the contest in the first place. Just think: You’ll be meeting THE Carter-“ “You WHAT?” I yelled, pacing towards her. She shrunk back into the wall behind her. “I thought you’d appreciate it, since I knew you’d never enter it yourself…“ “What were you thinking!” I cried, willing myself not to rip that awful tiara off her cute little head. She knew how much I despised the royal family. She knew I hated the gowns and fancy parties and talking in front of crowds. And now, I’ll be going to the palace, going to fancy parties for two weeks straight, and giving as many speeches as the terrible Carter Albertine wants me to give. I took a long, deep breath, smiled, and quietly said, “I’m actually going to kill you.” My mom shrugged to Hailey. “At least she’s subtle with it.”

The only thing I remember is being handed a gold trophy, nothing before that, and only hazy memories afterwards.

My picture is shown in the paper, my name is flashed on the news. And all because of something I can’t remember.

No one will tell me what I won, they seem to think I’m making a joke. Nobody believes me, so how can I believe myself?

I must smile and wave, content to be the face of the completion I don’t remember entering.

This story is about me. About how I did terrible in school. That I failed the 9th grade more times than I could possibly count. I was married at the age of 21. Nowhere near mature. Without knowing which way to go in life. My thoughts where that once you where married, the next best thing to do was to get a job and settle down. I was wrong.I have been wrong, so many times. I was never advised by my father, or by anyone. I ended up getting a job at Tyson foods as a shag driver. I worked there for two years, bringing home just enough money to feed my newly bride. And im not going to lie, times where tough.

Somewhere along that time, my brother Abraham was driving a mustang and so my “love” for race cars began. I would dream about having my own mustang. That my brother and I would be at the local drag strip, and that we would be very high competition to anyone that challenged us. And so I started digging down a rabbit hole, I purchased an older camero that had more problems than a college calculas math book. I left my job in order to pursue my dream to become a mechanic, and eventually work on “race cars”. I was hired at a local transmission shop and it was there that I would spend the next 4 years of my life, plus another 6 years working at different transmission shops and having my own shop.

My own shop was a total failure. We always struggled. My overhead doubled and it was very hard to make ends meet. Heck there was multiple times when i had the electricity cut off at the shop and at the house! I was always making late payments, borrowing money, then having lenders calling the people who where the closest to me, wondering why i never answered the phone. Haha, those where the days.

I left to Midland and found some success as a diesel mechanic. I was paid well, arguably the highest paid mechanic there. But i was never happy. I wanted to be able to work with my mind, I wanted to be a developer. And so I purchased a MacBook Air and began taking online courses. Blogging courses and copywriting courses.

I then bought an iPad and wanted to journal. And not only journal, but actually journal with a purpose. And that is how I stumbled across an app called writing prompts. And so my journey as a writer began. I want to be a better writer. I want to be an author this upcoming year.

And so i submitted my first story called “the learning loop”

It was a crappy story. Like i said before, my writing experience is probably close to zero.

But i didnt care, i still submitted my story.

I received an email a couple days later and i was thinking that it was a notification for constructive criticism. Boy was i in for a surprise.

I won first place, and probably not for the actual writing. I think they had some empathy on my and picked me first in order to give me motivation.

Sitting in the audience in a very uncomfy chair I wasn’t paying attention to the stage because I didn’t really care.

This hot man asked for my name and my number Then he walked away and I thought what a bummer.

The loud speaker was talking My fingers on tinder were walking.

“Allison Nun you have won!” The whole crowd cheered “Oh what fun!”

My head snapped up All I could say was “but but”

The hot man from before Was laughing on the floor.

I walked to the stage Trying to act unfazed.

I shook the hand of the loud speaker My knees had never felt weaker.

The hot man used my information To enter me in a competition at the space station.

My phone rings and it’s some guy saying he’s from publishers clearing house. You have just won a new Cadillac, what color do you want? You also won 350,000.00 dollars that will be delivered to your door here shortly. I knew that I had not entered any contest.

What color did you say? Hummm silver! You should be excited Mr. Lopez, you just won were just a few miles away ready to deliver. I need for you to go to the nearest location and get a Visa card for $500.00 and scratch the back and give me the number. Oh ok, so this is for real? Yes sir, as soon as you get the card, and give me the number on the back, we will deliver the prizes,so hurry, but don’t hang up. Have you ever won before? No never!

Okay! I’m so excited I’m on my way, how long before you get there? I’m not sure hold on because, I may lose signal I’m in the mountains, I’m driving as fast as I can. Oh ok! just be careful, last thing we need is for you to have an accident. I hung up pretending I lost signal and he calls back hello, did you hang up ? Your breaking up I can’t hear you call back in 5 minutes. Five minutes go by and phone rings again are you getting close? Ya I should be. Oh my! What’s wrong? I forgot where I’m suppose to go and what I’m suppose to get. Your going to the nearest location to buy a visa gift card for 500.00 he replied getting frustrated. I thought you wanted the gifts? I do mister I’m trying to hurry there’s a town coming up it’s call dam scam population one freaking lier. Where did you say you were ? Excuse me sir, did you not hear me? No! It was hard to hear. I’m twenty four miles to the nearest town. It has been over an hour and a half and I’m at the window at Wendys placing an order. I make sure he can hear me ordering. Mr. Lopez, where are you I thought you were far away from a town? I thought you said I had won a car and 350,000.00 dollars. You did win I’m waiting on the 500.00 so we can deliver. Ok! Hold on I have to eat my fries I can’t think on an empty stomach. Ok but hurry we’re running out of time. Ok! Ok! I’m trying. There’s nothing here but a Wendy’s in the middle of no where. What is this? It’s dam scam, and your a lier. You been playing me this whole time said the stranger yep! Stop scamming people you called the wrong guy. You son of a b…… said the stranger and I laughed out loud. Your an idiot and it felt good to know that not only was I going to lose, your the biggest loser and he hung up. I knew that this was to Good to be true as soon as he started talking. Don’t fall for scammers there everywhere.

                                            Written By:
                                             Ghostrider 
                                              10-25-2021

“Bingo!” my grandma yelled from beside me. I snapped my head towards her. She stood with her finger pointed straight at me. “My granddaughters, got bingo” she grinned. The caller at the front walked over to where I sat. He eyed my playing card. He nodded curtly and marked something on his notepad as he walked away. Bingo? I’m six. I’m just here for the cool stamp markers.

My family knows my hobbies and how I admire the Art as evey Saturday i draw a piece of art for different kinds of arts.my little cosine showed a competition in dubai for artists and who will win the competition will get 500000 million dollars and will make film video for him to be famous.I didn’t recognise the competition and even though i know myself i will not take this prize it’s for who has a luck and i know I don’t have.

When I’m setting talking with the family I received a message from unknown number says that my arts has been accepted to enter the competition and the final competition will be in September in dubai and they sent the details of the travel i kept reading the messages surprisingly and happily i asked myself how is that ?! I read the message with my highly voice and my cosine responded yes!!! You deserve it happy birthday dear that was a cutest gift i had ever seen i huged her and thanked there for sending my arts there she said i sent your Saturday’s arts that you are usually does for us aww how lovely you are

I decided with myself that it is my chance to put myself as a real artist i kept drawing and drawing as iam a greenhorn in a competitions so i draw every Sundays Mondays Tuesdays wednesdays i worked so hard as I dreamed that i will be the winner and take that prize Finally the date came closer and closer and I’m jittery it’s my chance yes to be successful and get out from those doldrums years that i was in tomorrow has come and I became infront of the hallowed judges the time has alerted and I started to give all my effort in thos piece of art i drew alot of birds get out of the cadge it relates to the freedom the judges understood my art and thanked me for this idea and respected it finally they announced the winner and they mentioned my name I can’t believe that i will took this prize and i my dream comes true!

The stone wall was wet, cold. I could hear them—whoever they were—moving around above us, the faint scent of gunpowder filling the small space. The woman, a stranger, put her hand on my shoulder.

“Stay here,” she whispered. Mouthed it, really, she was so silent. “Don’t move.”

I didn’t.

I watched her crouch-walk along the stone foundation, the underground portion of a massive downtown hotel. She was small, maybe a buck-thirty at most. Fit, agile. She took a metal cylinder from somewhere in her jacket and, without stopping, attached it to the end of her gun. I suddenly felt very conscious of my lack of knowledge regarding guns, but in my defense, until ten minutes prior I’d never had any pointed at me.

I waited in the darkness, as instructed, looking and listening in vain for any hint at what was happening. Suddenly, two loud flashes, accompanied by two metallic sounding whistles. Then I heard what I can only describe as what it would sound like to drop a wet duffle bag of food on the ground.

I froze.

My brain knew what all of it meant. Gun fire. Dead bodies. My hero possibly one of the dead. My heart and lungs and nervous system, though, seemed to have lost all sense of what they were supposed to do.

After a moment—or a thousand years, for all I know—I looked behind me, but it only got darker and I had no clue what was waiting for me. I realized I had no idea how to get out without answering the question of who was still breathing, when I caught a glimpse of something moving toward me. I cursed myself for not learning karate or carrying a weapon or even just a rolled up magazine, something, anything to fight back with.

“Let’s go.”

I felt my breath leave my lungs at the same time all ability to stand left my legs.

“No. Get up! We don’t have a lot of time.”

With unexpected strength, given her size, she practically yanked my arm out of socket lifting me up, but it worked. I was moving.

“What the hell is happening?”

“Quiet. Stay with me, right here, on my left hip, that’s where you live until I say otherwise.”

“Who are those men?”

“Quiet, sir.”

I’d never seen a dead body before. Ever. Now I was stepping over two dead men. Big men. They looked like football players or soldiers or something. They were dressed like in Call of Duty. I couldn’t stand to look at one, the one with only half a face. The other one looked normal, like he was just taking a nap, except for the bloody hole just above his vest. It was one of those vests that had all the attachments. I suddenly wondered what the hell he was going to do with whatever was in all those pouches?

What were they going to do… to me?

The woman took one of the dead men’s guns. It was sort of like a pistol, but bigger. She grabbed a couple of the bullet things (clips?) and stuffed them in her pockets. Then she led me to a doorway, before tapping her watch.

“Go,” said a voice.

“I got him. East service entrance,” she said into the watch. “Get us out now.”

“Roger.”

Before the voice on her watch completed the word, a spark hit the doorframe just above her head. She moved me away from it, pushing me up against a wall.

“Make it snappy,” she yelled, again into her watch.

“There!”

I said it without thought. It was all reaction. I saw a shadowy figure moving toward us, it looked like he was carrying a gun, so some part of my reptile brain that didn’t want to die made my vocal chords alert her to this approaching threat. She fired twice and the shadow fell to the ground. She fired a few more times, in bursts.

Into her watch she said, “multiples, all directions, come in hot.”

“Roger. Ten seconds.”

“Make it five, and don’t shoot my ass.”

She fired again. Then her gun was empty. Without looking at it, she ejected the empty clip and put another one in, all in the span of less than a second. She fired again.

She looked at me.

“If I fall, you take this. Point it at the bad guys and pull the trigger. Understood?”

I said nothing.

“Understood?!”

“Yes!” I managed.

A sudden burst of gunfire echoed through the alley ways and into the opening where I was trying not to faint. It sounded like it was coming from everywhere, all at once.

The woman fell back, grabbing her side.

Blood.

“Shit,” she said, before righting herself again and returning fire.

It went on for what I’m sure was only a few more seconds. In that time, though, I felt keenly aware of everything: The coolness of the night air; The different sounds of what I assumed were different guns; The smell of gun powder and the metallic smell of blood; My knees, how they ached from crouching; My heartbeat, which filled my ears.

Then it was over.

Silence.

Not silence. Ringing.

My ears were ringing.

Even though she was injured, the woman was looking at me, mouthing something.

“No, I’m fine,” I said, deciphering what she was asking. “I’m fine. You’re hurt.”

She winked. I could start to hear her as she said, “…day at the office, sir.”

Before I knew what was happening I was in the back of an armored sedan. Men and women, all young and fit like the woman that helped me, all wearing dark suits, had hustled me along, keeping my head down, until I was seat-belted in and we were moving at a high speed.

Two or three black SUVs joined us, in front and behind us. There may have been more, but that’s all I could see. A helicopter was above us, I could see it’d lights flashing.

The car slowed, then stopped. We were in a parking garage or something. The same group of men and women escorted me to a room and handed me off to some middle-aged people in gray suits. They didn’t look as strong or tough, more like business people.

A woman that reminded me of my aunt Bernice walked up to me.

“Can I get you anything, sir? Water? Are you hungry?”

“Um. Coffee?”

She turned and, without a word, two young people moved quickly out of the room.

“Why don’t you have a seat. It’s been quite an ordeal for you, I’m sure.”

I sat.

She sat.

A moment later I was holding a mug of coffee. One of the two young people had a tray with creamer, sugar, that kind of stuff. I waved him off.

“What is all this about? Who were those people? Is that woman okay?”

“Agent Nguyen is expected to make a full recovery, sir.”

“Agent?”

“Yes, sir. Secret Service. We’re not certain, at this point, who the operatives were or who they were working for, but our best and brightest are on that at this moment. I have no doubt we—“

“Operatives?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Why are operatives after me?”

She looked momentarily as confused as I’m sure I did.

“Do you, um, sir, do you not know that you won?”

“Won what?”

“The election, sir.”

“Election?”

“Yes, sir. You are the President Elect, sir.”

“President of what?”

She picked up a remote and clicked on the TV. It was a news broadcast. She unmuted the TV to some group of serious-looking talking heads.

“…never seen anything like this, Joy. This is truly uncharted territory.”

“Yes, but, constitutionally, is there—“

“Constitutionally, it appears to be completely within—“

“Yes, but, the Founders never intended that a bunch of internet trolls would steal the election with a write in campaign for a YouTuber.”

“A forty-year-old YouTuber that makes videos about where he launches fireworks from his rear end and crashes shopping carts into—“

“I hate to interrupt the panel, but we’re just getting word that an unknown terrorist cell made an apparent attempt to apprehend the President Elect, but the Secret Service was able to easily thwart the efforts and he is safely ensconced—“

She clicked it off.

“So, Mr. President Elect, can we get you into some clean clothes? Are you hungry, sir?”