Evelyn Brown, a twenty-seven year old trying to get her foot in the door to establish her dream as a photographer. Her mind is plagued by the ghosts of her past - consumed with the reminders of her sins.
Everyday is a constant battle, until she mee...
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One week later.
I've really done my homework on you this week. A quick Instagram search of Harry Styles showed me that you're quite an outgoing person. A lot of the outside, hiking, the gym. You take pride in your own interests. But there's also a quirky side to you - the random photos of deers with the pun-like caption "deerstagram" shows people that you have that weird and fun side to you. You're weird, you don't care if people know that. You want them to know - you want me to know that you are serious, yet fun. Confident, yet quirky. It's charming. It's attractive. I want to know more of you.
You recently went to a club with some friends - mainly male, but there's one familiar face that stood out. Rebecca. Your arm is around her shoulders, the other holding a peace sign. Casual - not too intimate. More of a friendly gesture. I'm not sure if your "friend" gets the same memo. Her arms are tight around your body as she cuddles into your chest. Some friend.
You don't seem to have any pictures of your family - a private man. I like that. Keep your family close to your chest.
Before work and after work, I'll take the route down by Eden Fitness on my way home. Sure, it adds 10 minutes to my journey, but it's worth it. You go to the gym on Monday, Wednesday and Friday in the evening. Probably to get more access to the equipment, it's quieter during those times.
I made sure to take my induction to the gym out of those hours, after all, I've been going to the gym for a while now. I'm all about.. keeping fit? Or is it being healthy? As far as you are aware, we have that in common.
I guess I go to the gym now.
Fuck I'm sweating. Like Jesus Christ how do people do this?
I try to control my breathing as I run on the treadmill, slowing down the pace just a little. I check the time on my watch - 5:59pm. And in three, two, one...
I hear the gym door open, and I look at the mirror opposite me.
And there you are.. You're punctual, right on time. You like to follow a routine. And now I can learn more about you - fuck okay I can't do the treadmill any longer. This is fucking torture.
I turn the treadmill down to a stop, resting my hands on my knees, breathing heavily. How in the actual fuck.. is this fun? This is literally my idea of hell. But I'm doing this for you.
I step away from the treadmill, wiping it down with the cleaning equipment before almost downing my bottle of water.
After successfully not passing out, I make my way to the steps machine. Great. Stairs. But you like cardio.
I look at the machine and sigh, resting my hand on my hips. Well here goes nothing.
I step onto the steps, turning the machine onto a slow pace. This is not the type of jelly legs I'm into.
