You Are A Cinema

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I groaned as I walked down the hallway. My head hurt from crying, arguing, screaming. My heart battling with my head for control of my emotions. I couldn't help but go back and forth with myself I couldn't wait to get the hell out of here. I lazily dragged my bag behind me my hair tied up tight in a high ponytail. I didn't feel like actually getting dressed so I just put on one of Colson's  too big shirts and a pair of leggings. Making my way out of the hotel the early morning sunshine blinded me. I had to shield my eyes as I searched around for the right direction to go. Finally found it, to the right. I finally got to bus and unlached it, tossing my bag in. Fuck order. I closed it back up, sighing as I made it to the bus door. I hopped up the stairs and made my way to the back passing the boys. They watch me carefully looking as with the wanted to speak but of course didnt. I practically fell onto the couch in the back. Staring at the roof of the bus, I was ready to go. I wish they would hurry up all ready. My patient was being tested like usual. I know why the sudden emotional down, right? The next day after my little incident with Miss. Starr I woke up with a headache. Guess she did get in one or two good shots. Around my right eye and my right ear I was bruised and already bruising by the time me and Colson got back to the hotel. Even though Colson took me out  after my brawl with his pornstar hook up, I couldn't help but think in the back of my mind about the fact that he did in fact sleep with her. What made it worse, he told me it was more than 5 times. I cringed, but decided to ignore it. A few times before me and a few after I left.

Well he made a great choice in a rebound...

Well that explains that WorldStar video a bit more. It made me cringe more thinking about what happened after that. Every time I looked at the bruises on my face it reminded me of her... of them... together... sexually....

I think I'm gonna puke...

They reminded me that I fought viciously for the man that slept next to me every night, but I couldn't help but look at pictures of her now, wondering if that's really what caught his eye enough for him to fuck her, girls that looked like that. Girls that had no problem fucking random "actors" on camera and sometimes pretending to have an orgasm  for all the world to buy, click, and download.

Click, click, click

That's all it took and there was all your sexual exploits and adventures for anyone to watch. Did he really like that? Even if he didn't, her appearance though. All that makeup plastered on her face, size D titties hanging out of an extra small strapless shirt, a cut off shirt might I add, with a miniskirt pulled up, showing a hint of a g-string that barely covers her lady parts. I understand, to men that's hot, what man wouldn't want to sleep with that. But there's a difference between reality and fantasy. Some fantasies should stay fantasies. What that really what he likes though? If so... that was the exact opposite of me. I almost hated wearing a bikini while on a beach full of people let alone a G-string.  I constantly found myself looking in the mirror and making comparisons. My hair, though completely real, was not as long and straight, I was slender compared to her curves. My body looked nice but if she were standing next to me, you could tell she had the add to go with her body. I examined my chest. Last I checked I was at least a 40 C or something like that. Now I've always thought that was a decent size, but hers, so much bigger. So all in all in the appearance aspect, she had won. Alright fine, I could hopefully get over that. At least until I got a call from J that same day. I sighed, he probably heard about what happened, probably. Hopefully he hadn't, I grabbed my phone and prayed to God he wasn't gonna have to "whip me into shape". I sighed and cautiously hit the talk button.

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