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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Dinner and a show

With a full and warmed belly, Samantha walked bravely into city hall, swinging the door open wide as she stepped inside trying to look around but without appearing completely lost.

And right away she jumped back, "Sorry!"

A woman stood behind the door, stopped with her hands in front of her as she'd thrown them up to stop the door from hitting her. Samantha expected a woman almost hit by a door to be a bit more upset than a simple apology could sooth, but this woman only smiled at her.

"Well, aren't we in a hurry?"


"Sorry, I'm new here, and someone suggested I should check in here first."

At the word "new," the woman perked up suddenly. "New? We don't get a lot of visitors. Welcome to town. I'm Samantha."

The other Samantha reached out her hand, and Samantha took it. "Really? I'm Samantha also."


For a moment it was like looking in a warped mirror. The other Samantha was nothing like her. She was clearly more of a dressy kind of girl, and her dark hair which was only in a bun still somehow had the appearance of being done in a salon.

Once again, Samantha caught the other Samantha looking down at her shirt. Her boobs were not so amazing that people were prone to staring at them, so she was sure it was the shirt.


"It's the shirt, isn't it?"

"Yeah, what is the deal with that? I know people get gag gifts, but they don't usually wear them."

"It was free."

The other Samantha looked at her with a smile, "Oh you are in need of some serious help. Come on. I know where we can go. It's close."




The other Samantha hadn't even asked if she had a place to live. The first thing she'd done was drag her off to a clothing shop. Hanging around a group of women tossing around their troubles was one thing, but these women clearly had plans for her before she even had plans for herself.


"How about this one?"

Bonnie seriously eyed the shirt as if it were a piece of art not just a shirt she were picking up so she could take off her free shirt that everyone seemed a little too interested in. "Hmm. Okay. But try it on."

As she was in the fitting room, plans were being made already. Before she'd even stepped out of the fitting room, she had agreed to go to dinner after she'd made a stop and gotten herself a place to stay and finally changed her shirt.





The house from the outside was small and plain. There was no perfect lawn and no landscaping, just the old newspaper on the porch which Bonnie kicked aside casually with a smile as she stepped out to greet them.

"Welcome to our house," Bonnie said with a smile.


There was a charm to the place that Samantha couldn't exactly pick out. It was small and within walking distance of Bonnie's clothing shop so that they didn't even seem to have a car.

"Thank you for inviting us, Bonnie," The other Samantha (who had agreed to be called "Sam" to avoid confusion) said politely.

"No problem, I figure that I should probably get on your good side now since I worry we might see a lot of each other next year."

Sam smiled at Bonnie, "I'll pretend that I have no clue what's coming or what you meant by that. I'd like to pretend to enjoy my summer."

They laughed easily, it was slightly infectious. Even if Samantha was disoriented by how quickly things seemed to be moving. Had she really only arrived in town this morning?

A man poked his head out of the door, "Okay, food ordered."


Bonnie, who had been sheepishly ready to tell them something hopped on him, wrapping her arms around him and kissing his cheek as he gently patted her head. "Oh god, thank you. I didn't want to have to tell them about the burnt pizza."

A pang attacked Samantha suddenly. Bonnie's move was casual, natural. The two fit together perfectly like puzzle pieces and it made Samantha's heart hurt. She glanced away and caught Sam's expression almost a mirror of her own. She was stone faced, almost stoic in an attempt to not react and she had also turned away to meet Samantha's gaze.


Sam, seeing her expression mirrored on Samantha's face, stepped forward with a smile at Samantha. "Well, while we're waiting for food, how about that haircut?"

Bonnie jumped at that idea too quickly. She was something like those little dogs who pushed their larger owners around, only in her case she was all bite and very little bark. Samantha could already tell she was not the sort of person one could say no to easily. Adorable, boisterous and demanding, normally a combination that probably drew people to her, something about it pushed at Samantha and almost made her wish she hadn't agreed to come over for dinner.

Bonnie dragged her out to the backyard where an old and weather beaten barber shop chair sat exposed to the elements.

"Now, I can tell you're a little nervous. Maybe a little dubious about my talents, so we'll start you off easy. I'll just do a little restyling and if you don't like it, well no harm done."

Sam stood near by, a hand on her chin and a smirk across her face. Even though Samantha was sure she was pretty much the one to blame for this, she found herself drawn to this woman. This evil woman who had her spending money on clothes before she had a place to stay and drew her into some oddly girly adventure.

This was something they'd laugh about later, she was sure. Hopefully over drinks.


"See? Not bad, huh?"

Samantha was pleasantly surprised.

Bonnie's husband, Orlando, stuck his head out the back door (not very far, Samantha noticed- she wondered if it was all the estrogen or if it was only his wife with the cutting shears). "Dinner's here."

Inside they went. Sam threw Samantha one last smirk as if she could read Samantha's mind and did fully intend on laughing about this later. Hopefully over drinks.

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

Bonnie and the pizza:


OMG, she looked so disappointed. And Ama is so not surprised. "We're having people over? And you cooked?"

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Just arrived

"A little early for a drink, inn'it it?"





Samantha stared the woman down and took a large gulp of her drink before she placed her order for a T-bone steak. She was starving, but she didn't exactly have money to burn through. She had to be careful and make it last, and the T-bone steak happened to be the least expensive thing on the menu. If she was going to waste her money, let it be on something helpful, like a good stiff drink to start the day.

She tried to take her time with her meal. Tried to not think about where in the world she was going or what she was doing because then she'd realize she didn't really know where she was going or what exactly she was doing. But it felt right. It was the right thing to do. There was something she was missing, a piece to her puzzle that had somehow managed to go missing over the course of her life when she'd been working on putting things together.


It was after she had finished her steak, sitting with a full stomach and trying to nurse her afternoon drink that she felt someone standing behind her. She did not turn around and she refused to curl up and let the little shiver roll down her back because she knew she was being watched.

"You're new here," he said as she raised her glass to her lips for something to do.

"Mmm hmm." His voice was smooth and gentle and it made her relax a little.


"I'm Water Mellon," he said with a smile as he stepped around to stand behind the bar. He was dressed well, in a suit that fit him perfectly and left both a lot and almost a little to the imagination.

"Water Mellon?"

"Yeah, my mom had a strange sense of humor. My brother's name is Green." His lips gently curved up in a pleasant manner. The way one does when they don't expect anything in return. He was relaxed and calm, and it made her feel relaxed and calm. "I own this restaurant."

"Nice place."


"Thanks. I do try." He glanced down at her shirt, the free shirt they'd given her at the train station when she'd left. (She hadn't even known they had shirts to give away to people leaving Lakeside-- what was that some sort of promotional deal?-- but it'd been free and clean, and it was comfortable.)


At least she hoped he was glancing at her shirt. He didn't say anything for a moment. She cleared her throat and decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. "I just left from there. And yes, I got this t-shirt."

"It says 'born' though. Does everyone born there get that shirt?"

She glanced down. So it did say "born." She hadn't noticed that before. "Huh. Well, I don't know. I could just be special."

He smiled at her. "Do you have a place to stay yet?"

Hopefully he wasn't going to offer her one. "I was looking for a hotel or something, but there doesn't seem to be any here."


"We're pretty small, and we don't get a lot of visitors. But I know a place you can go."

And he gave her directions to the city center and a special place that was "like" a hotel he said, but it really sounded more like one of those old flop houses for the poor. It was okay though, because technically without a job and on the go she was poor.

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

So just for reference, because I'm sure we all know, anyone reading this blog has to be reading Lakeside Heights too, but just in case: This is Samantha Bradshaw's first stop on the grand tour of the Samantha Bradshaw project.

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