Spilling Over

She woke up thinking about her sister, Bella.

Dragging herself to the edge of the bed, she sat up, planted her feet firmly on the ground and then stopped. Rain drops tapped at her window. She peeked out the window at the rest of the small city. The gray sky desaturated everything that had any hint of color.

Perfect.



Samantha finally stood, gathering the clothes that were spilling out of her suitcase which she had somehow managed to never unpack in three months. She took some over to the bed and started folding them, the events of last night heavy on her mind.




Things had started out normally last night. Water had taken a break and sat down at her counter with a smile. It was a different smile, a genuinely happy smile.


"The usual?" Samantha asked returning his smile, happy to see such sincerity on his face.

"Please."

He didn't even get a chance to take a sip. Samantha placed the drink in front of him. Over his head, she could see someone coming up to the counter, but she thought nothing of it. People often came up to Water. He was really the only celebrity in town. And they all wanted a small piece of him. Usually it was ladies who Water would often smile for and offer cooking tips. Samantha imagined that these ladies just wanted to be able to tell the headmaster that their Lobster Thermadore recipie had come from Water Mellon himself.


But this girl stopped right behind him placing a hand on her hip and a cooked smile on her little mouth. "You must have missed me."

Water hopped up, his genuine smile replaced by surprise.


She could see it happening again. The girl was cute. Pretty. Bubbly. Nineteen. Blond. Everything she wasn't. The blond girl, with a smile and a twirl of her hair, was sneaking between the two of them and making her way straight to Water. Samantha could see his defenses going down, his sincere smile of only a second ago being replaced with a special smile just for this girl.

Water left his drink on the counter to hop up and hug her. "It's good to see you. Aren't you visiting with your parents?"


"I was but they went to sleep already. Can you believe it? They should be celebrating my return and instead they tell me good night and they'll see me in the morning."

The smile on her face made it clear to Samantha that for these two people right now, there was no one else in the room.

Samantha picked up the drink Water had left on the counter. She stepped away towards the end of the bar and took a good sip.


"Hey!" A patron she hadn't previously noticed said from her seat at the counter. "You aren't supposed to be drinking. I'm supposed to be drinking."

Samantha handed the woman the drink in her hand. "Here. On the house."

"All right!"


She watched them sitting together the rest of the night, her insides quaking like jello as she moved up and down gathering glasses and ingredients to make drinks.



What did Samantha care? She knew that easily from their first time in the photo booth that he was clearly too well practiced. It was a photo booth with only one stool that she and Samantha had nearly fallen off of to take their stupid little pictures. And he'd directed her easily, pulled her hips to where he needed her to be exactly as if he'd done it enough times before that he knew the trick.






Samantha called Water first. It was 10am. She knew he'd still be asleep. She imagined that he'd be asleep with his arm around the young blond girl from last night. The girl had stayed until closing, sitting in a booth with Water when he wasn't needed in the kitchen. And then Water had driven her home.

The answering machine picked up and she left a message saying that she had a family emergency. Something with her sister. She had to go. Samantha didn't feel too bad. Tonight was her night off for the next two nights, so he had time to find a replacement if he needed it.

But she had the feeling he didn't. The time he spent at the bar chatting with her had probably been the time he'd spent at the bar making drinks and greeting patrons. For whatever reason he'd given the position to her, she knew it wasn't out of necessity.

But she did feel guilty as she looked at the phone. Her suitcase repacked neatly, the photos from Samantha safely tucked away in a front pocket.






"Samantha, what is going on?" Sam pulled her close. "Is everything all right?"

They met at the corner market near the train tracks that lead out of the city. It was 1pm and the sky had finally cleared. There wasn't even a cloud in the sky. Samantha had her bag on the ground by her feet and her train ticket in her jacket pocket.

"Yes. It's fine. Just an emergency at home. I have to leave, but I didn't want to leave without saying good bye first. And... thank you."


Sam smiled at her. "Oh you're not still on about that night with Bonnie, are you? We could have gotten into more trouble if you'd have moved in next door to me like I'd planned."

There wasn't much more to be said. In the middle of the grocery store they hugged like two lovers who were never going to see each other again. It garnered strange looks, but neither of them cared.

Sam turned away at the sound of an approaching train. "That's probably your train, you know."


"I know." Samantha bent down and picked up her suitcase and pulled her ticket from her pocket. "Take care, Sam."

"You too Samantha."


Samantha knew exactly when she went wrong. It was not that night at the club down town. That was certainly a point of no return, but that hadn't been the mistake. It wasn't even really that night after work she actually went home with Water and took the "tour" of his home that she was sure he had given to other girls.


It was the moment that she had mistakenly leaned in for the kiss. It had surprised her and him both. They'd had an unspoken understanding that they were no more than the physical support group for loneliness. So what had possessed her in that one instant to lean forward and kiss him? And why had he kissed her back? Why had he even offered her a job for a position that he didn't even need to be filled in the first place?

Expectations and obligations were suffocating. They pressed on her, cutting off her freedom, dragging her back to that place from months ago. People never acted the way you wanted them to. Things always unexpectedly stepped into the picture, distorting it or changing it completely.

And in that moment, when Samantha had watched that little blond girl with Water, she'd felt it, a wound recently sutured being ripped apart to bleed on her insides.

She had to go. She had no other choice. She'd made a mistake, and she'd have to hope that in the next place she didn't make the same mistake again.

***********************

*sniff* Bye Samantha! Oh the trouble you could have caused with Sam if only you'd been ready to settle. But of course, she's not ready to settle yet.

So I'll just link to the last post to make it easy to find the pictures I made as a gift for poor Samantha. (Gift is at the bottom of the post.) I hope someone uses that, lol. It will probably be the only mention we get is in the background because I imagine that Samantha is going to want to forget this whole thing completely. Because ouch. I know I would if I were her.


As for Ily, for those who don't know her, here is her last entry. She worked for Water in high school as a hostess, and I always imagined that she had a huge crush on him. She keeps in constant contact with him, emailing him and calling him sometimes. And sometimes he actually calls her.

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Down that Road

A reminder: "Sam" refers to my Samantha, "Samantha" will refer to Ms. Bradshaw.



"What are you doing?"

The green spray went wide as Samantha jumped at Sam's voice.

"Uh, spraying the roaches."




"You're kidding! Isn't your landlord supposed to do that?"

Samantha stood up and replaced the can by the front door. The can was always there, so she pretty much assumed that was the landlord's doing. That was his preventative measure.

"No, nevermind, I don't think I want to know. Why are you still living here any way? It's been over two months. Surely there are other apartments in the city."

Samantha couldn't really explain it to someone as put together as Sam. Especially when she couldn't explain it to herself. Every day she glanced at the "For Rent!" ads with the intent to look closely when she got home from work. She always told herself "later." But after seven "later"s, a week had passed. After four weeks, an entire month. Time seemed to go so quickly when you had things you intended to do later.

Sam's face suddenly softened in guilt as if she realized her words sounded harsher than she meant them to. "Ah, sorry. Well, we should head out." She seemed to attempt a smile, but it was a limping half smile that hardly covered whatever she it was she was trying to cover.





Sam's eyes hardly met hers. Samantha knew there was something wrong with her friend. Something had definitely changed. They weren't close enough to swap stories about their periods, but Samantha had thought that they were at least close enough to be honest with each other.

"Swanky place, isn't it?" Samantha looked around at all the sketchy patrons that made their big appearance at night. For once she wished she'd see one of those plant people she'd been noticing at the restaurant. She'd always found them to be weird and a little disconcerting, but she'd take a strange plant person over this crowd any day.

Sam shrugged, "It's really the only place we've got downtown." She glanced around at the crowd too, but she did it with confidence. Samantha felt a little overdressed for this crowd, but Sam looked beautiful and elegant, classy even among the questionable elements present. "The woman who runs this place is a strange one. Haven't seen her in a while, but I'm sure she makes a killing with this place."


There was an awkward silence between the two of them. Samantha wasn't quite sure what to say. In her past experience, she'd learned that calling a girl out on strange behavior usually lead to them playing it off and leaving her looking like a fool.

She looked away out over the crowd gathering to dance as she debated whether she should just flat out ask and risk looking like a fool.


Then Sam looked up at her. "Are you okay?"

That stopped her in mid scoop. Samantha looked up at Sam, her eyebrows lifting involuntarily. She was sure the disbelief was written all over her face and she knew she couldn't keep quiet any more. "Am I okay? Are you serious? You've been out of it all night."

Sam shrugged, her eyes suddenly becoming much too shiny, a hand rising in the air almost helplessly. "I know."

She didn't offer more. There were no explanations, and Samantha wouldn't press. Something had indeed happened, that was definitely clear, but Sam didn't seem fit to talk about it.

Dinner was an awkward and quiet affair. Afterwards, they stood up after paying the bill. Sam looked away from her.

"I think I'm going to head home." The corners of her lips pulled back in a sad smile. "I'm sorry. I'll call you later." Sam turned quickly and walked towards the door leaving Samantha dumb founded. What was going on with her? Sam was her first friend here, and someone she liked despite their obvious differences. At their core they were both the same. Two hurt souls bonding over shared pains and bad luck.

Samantha walked slowly after her hoping they could share a taxi though she wasn't sure if she wanted to. When she got outside, she was completely alone. Sam was no where to be seen. She couldn't have called a taxi that fast, and it made Samantha worry that the woman had walked off into the dark.

Samantha picked up the phone to call a taxi for herself hoping that if Sam had started walking, she'd run across her and offer to pay her fare for the taxi ride back into the city proper.


"Sam, hey. You're out late."

She turned around at the friendly voice calling out to Sam. At first she thought he was talking to the other Sam, but when she turned his smile was on her. Water had taken to calling her "Sam" at work which did not usually confuse her; it was just a very confusing type of night.

"Fancy meeting you here," she said with a smile, the phone still in her hand. "What're you doing here?" She said as she hung the receiver back on its hook.

Water reached over to hug her. "Same thing as you I'd guess. Unwinding after work. Funny that we both come to a restaurant to unwind."

"Not like there's much else out here," Samantha said with a smirk.

Sometimes there's a point of no return.

Water's hand on her waist was that point. She knew it was a bad idea. He was her boss after all. But he was warm, he smelled good, he was friendly, and frankly, she was lonely. Yes, she was still smarting, but she was ready to move forward now, ready to take another chance. Even a ridiculously stupid chance.

So when he offered to buy her drinks to help her unwind, she saw it coming. Not love, she wasn't an idiot. She was heading down that one way road, rolling down hill quickly.


She knew, even after a few drinks, that when he suggested the photo booth, he wasn't exactly interested in taking pictures.


She couldn't blame the booze. They hadn't had nearly enough. Her heart pounded hard against his hand softly cupping her breast through her dress. He slipped her dress up; it didn't have far to go. Her undies only had to be pushed so far, and then right there. She stifled a moan at the excitement of it, the danger of being caught.

She knew him, yet she didn't know him this way. She didn't know his hands, and she hadn't seen his body. No strings attached. If she couldn't have love, at least she could have excitement. She could be one of those girls. At least for this night knowing he wouldn't go home to his family or his young ones because he was also as lonely as she was and just as distrusting of love.





The pictures she and Sam had taken in that same photo booth lay on her plain white desk in the room as she took a late shower before bed. She had the next day off thankfully, so she could sleep in and not have to worry about facing Water until the memories faded. Her skin still tingled, the hot water from her body only heightening the strange sensation. It wasn't him, she wasn't in love with him. And though it had been fun, and nerve wracking, she was sure she couldn't do it again. Hopefully he'd wouldn't bother asking her again.

***********************************

Well well well. This worked out better than I had planned, personally. All of this was pretty autonomous. Samantha B got an invite by Water to go downtown. In the group were Sam K and his young daughter Melanie (who saw some stuff she really shouldn't have seen).

So I just recreated it for this entry. I don't do pose boxes- poopoo on you pose boxes. (Unless I really need them, of course.)


I calculate only one more entry and then she's off to Bbop's Kayton Times. (Why does that feel like a spoiler? I think we all know that she's not sticking around.)


Anyway, last night I got the *brilliant* idea that I would somehow like to create a gift, a memento of this night for Samantha for those who enjoy personal touches and might like a small nod to where she's been.

So I bring you Sam & Sam:



Sam&Sam Serious:



Sam&Sam Goofy:



I extracted the pictures from their photos (semi-easy if you'd like to know how to do it, let me know, I got a link) and then fixed them up and used them to recolor the Inverted Vertigo, Cover art poster which is $60 in the catalog.

Download Sam & Sam Goofy
Download Sam & Sam Serious

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Conflict

Warning: One slightly graphic picture cut to make it slightly less graphic though still highly suggestive. Consider yourselves warned in a round-about kind of way.



Water thinks about it constantly. It's almost been a year since it happened, but that doesn't take away the anger or the hurt he felt when Demi left and took their two children with her to that creepy cult that lived far outside town. (Author's note: For the curious:Part 1, Part 2, Part 3)

He wasn't ever the sort of man who wanted to settle down and have children. From an early age, he'd pretty much said it wasn't for him. Never mind the fact that between high school and college, he'd had more serious relationship sex than he had meaningless sex.




But now he finds himself childless, technically, and in a new large and spacious apartment. Now when he can lead the life he always said he'd meant to, he finds himself decorating a room all in pink and carrying their toys left from their hasty departure to his new apartment. The hope is that they'll know that he was thinking about them always during their separation.

One room is already prepared for the day he gets his daughters back. But it's almost been a year already and he's no closer now than he was before at getting his daughters back. That's almost a year he's missed in their lives. Who's showing Shannen how to walk? Who's helping Melanie with her homework? The thought makes him queasy with anger.


So he just doesn't think about it. He keeps himself busy with work and the restaurant and meeting new people. It helps him not think.

Except those nights he goes to bed alone. His mind wears a trail looping over thoughts he'd prefer to not think about. His daughters sleeping at that creepy cult place probably being told that he didn't love them and wasn't looking for them. Demi falling for the words of Tristin Stratton who was even less worthy of trust than his sister Sofia.


If he looks like he's enjoying himself, it's just for show. To be polite, really. She called him. He doesn't really want to spread the pain. He doesn't want to talk about it anymore because all the talking he's done has done absolutely nothing to help him. And he doesn't really know what to do anymore.


It doesn't help, it doesn't make things better, but it is something. It stops the thinking letting his hand run along the crevice in her hip, fingering the delicate and rough lace of her underwear before it slides down her thigh. Feeling the strands of her hair brushing against his chest as she climbs on top of him, taking the lead and leading him away from those thoughts that fill his head when he is alone and goes to sleep.



She knows; he's sure she knows though he can't really find the words to say it again. Neither of them have discussed it. They've only carried on as if everything that had come before, their entire past hadn't happened. He's sure that he's being used as much as she's using him. Sometimes it feels ridiculous to find comfort in the silly repetitive ritual between two human adults. Sometimes he almost wants to laugh out loud about it.

But he doesn't. Not in any way that would be unusual. Though she has remarked on his smiling more at times. But she doesn't know, and he doesn't want to tell her. It's the smile of a man who doesn't really have much more to lose, who doesn't want to gain more just to lose it again. She doesn't really know what it's like to believe you're truly in love enough to give up everything only to have the one you were willing to give your heart to give it back and walk out with the two most important girls in his life.

If only there were a nice and neat way to end his story. You know, one of those beautifully poetic insights about life and love and maybe even the transient beauty of it all. But he's a realist, a pragmatist. It's almost been an entire damn year. What else can you really say?

********************************

So the last time I left these two Sam was saying some brave things. The words he can't say? I hope it's clear. He's not ready for a serious relationship. He's still hurting. And I totally get that from game play, lol.



Poor guy. Even though his chemistry with Sam is higher, I do believe that in his pixel soul he really loved Demi and he's really hurt by her leaving.

And, for anyone who might have forgotten, he really has tried everything. He's talked to the Mayor, but of course there isn't a police force to speak of, not that they can do anything with people living on the margins of town. And Water made a personal appearance over at the cult where he was promptly run off.

As for Sam, well, she was the one to call him once and invite him on an outing. Probably I will mention that later on. In the case of this entry, the inspiration came when I left the game running while checking up something or reading someone's post. When I went back, these two were hanging out at his house-- though they didn't actually make it past the lobby. Those darn comfy looking lobby sofas.

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Back where we started

And here we are, right back where we started. She's not a lush. This is her first drink of the day and only her second drink since her arrival. And this time it wasn't even her idea.

It's been a week. Only a week, but it still seems like it's been longer than that. Days go by slowly when you aren't working. It's only been a week, but she hasn't really looked very hard, if she's being honest with herself. Which she usually isn't, honestly.

"So how's the place?" Water asks as he pours himself a drink.


It was just a fluke. They happened to bump into each other while she was walking past to the City Center to check for new job postings. It was only 11am, and Water's restaurant wasn't set to open for another two hours or so.

"Well, I can't complain." She lies. She could. Easily.

Water told her about a little flop house, no questions asked, easy approval to rent a room. They provide you with three meals a day which is probably the best part about her stay. The elimination of her needing to cook or go in search of food.

But it's only a room.

A bare room at that. Her suitcase sits off in the corner. She hasn't even removed her clothes yet. The entire place suggests only a temporary living environment. Mostly because of the fact that bathrooms, showers, and even the damn TV is shared.



"It is certainly different." She smiles even as she puts her hand to her forehead to stave off the headache she can feel just beginning to grow out of her own boredom and exhaustion.

"How's the job search going?" He asks before he moves to step around the bar.

"Ugh." It's almost involuntary. There don't seem to be many jobs in this little town though she had seen a posting for Bonnie's Clothing Shop. Sam had already told her that Bonnie needed a cashier. She'd suggested it with a smirk and a poorly hidden laugh.

Samantha was not nearly desperate enough. "Well, you know, okay I guess. I don't have one yet, so that should tell you something."

Water chuckles. "That bad? Why don't you work here? I could use a bartender for the evening shift."

"Really? I've never tended a bar before though."

He slides into the seat near her. "I'd train you. Besides, a cute girl can't really go wrong."


Now Water was the one who suggested the flop house, so she's not exactly how sure she should be of his judgment. Really. But it did sound different, plus she stood no chance of having Sam suggest she should go work for Bonnie again.

"Wait, I have to do something first though." Samantha hops up, steps around the bar, and picks up three clear and heavy glass tumblers. It was a trick she'd done plenty in college at parties usually using their little espresso cups.

Glass tumblers are definitely heavier than espresso cups, but it works. Clearly it's a sign that she can be a bartender. She smiles because that's pretty awesome to be able to just juggle glass tumblers. (Can you do that with hardly any practice?)

Water isn't nearly so impressed it seems.


"Uh yeah, that's cool, but ah, try not to do that too often, okay?"

It's okay, she still questions his judgment anyway.

They part after shaking hands on it. Water will personally train her starting as soon as tomorrow.

*********************

Y'know, we put warnings when these things are long, should I put a warning when they're short?

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I can't believe it!

But I remembered.

It's this blog's birthday today! Can you believe it's two years old? Two years! That's two years of playing steadily. Two years of actually writing about my playing steadily. Two years of actually writing steadily.

There's something of a love hate relationship with this blog, to be honest. It's not always been my best writing, and I think somewhere, in the back of my head Ruin was always percolating because it's always been meant to get out (I just needed lots of time away from it), so the story in this blog might have crossed some streams with Ruin. (That's bad. You're not supposed to do that.)


Even if it wasn't always my best, the point has always been to let go and just have fun. No worries or concerns, just writing for myself and learning to then share it

But the best thing to come out of this blog, of course, has been all the people I've been lucky enough to get to know. It's interesting the odd ways you all come up in normal everyday thoughts from time to time.


So my first two posts on this blog two years ago: A text version of the family tree (Don't know how up to date that it, but pretty much I've been playing the same sims for two years, so not a lot has changed. Yikes! And Laura thinks her sims age slow! :P) And the beginning of Amberle's story.


I guess that's enough celebrating. I should get back to "work." And by work, of course, I mean play. Big simming weekend for me. I've declared it. ^____^

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