Post by SIANA TODOROVA ZHEKOVA on Jul 18, 2013 12:20:38 GMT -8
| [atrb=style,width: 420px; background-color: efefef; background-image: url(http://24.media.tumblr.com/0478144b9f16c95a37367d1aca56b45c/tumblr_mkfax8tDxp1s97ldco1_500.png); padding: 5px, bTable] SIANA T. ZHEKOVA 27 | HETEROSEXUAL | DESIGNER | LOCALS | RADINA KARDZHILOVA I am smiling at her. She is smiling back at me. She looks happy. Sitting on a comfortable wooden chair in the backyard of a small, but cute white house in Brunswick, it does not seem as if she needs anything more – this is the backyard of her and Samson’s house, and Samson himself is here, playing football with Radoslav. Their screams are making her smile warmly, while looking at them – two of the most important men in her entire life. Radoslav – her surprisingly open-minded, boundlessly curious and amazingly artistic 4-year-old son – has finally grown with Samson as his father figure, or probably mostly as his best friend. If the boy was feeling uncomfortable with Samson, then the two adults would not make that huge step in their relationship of living together. One of her tanned hands is putting sun glasses upon her head, placing them between shiny locks of chocolate brown hair, while the other is reaching out and taking a glass of fresh natural orange juice that’s left on the small wooden table. Her soft lips are barely touching the edge of the glass, but still she can feel the organic taste of the beverage, and suddenly it reminds her of her childhood. Her childhood was one full with memories of her running barefoot along with her cousins, stealing fruits from their neighbor’s garden, and then running away from the old lady and her dog that was chasing them down the street. Probably that was what has made her the nature lover she is today. Or it was her parents – Todor and Vienne – a very successful Bulgarian professor and writer and an unknown but incredibly talented French painter. They named their daughter Siana, which in Bulgarian sounds exactly like the word ‘radiant’, and raised her gently in a warm and intelligent atmosphere. The happy and careless childhood Siana had helped her to unconsciously focus on developing her artistic skills. Having inherited Vienne’s talent in painting and Todor’s ambition and dedication, the young girl managed to graduate the National High School of Fine Arts in Bulgaria. She is putting the glass of orange juice back on the table. Her smile widens as her eyes see that Samson and Radoslav have forgotten their football game, and the man is tickling the small boy’s tummy. That is enough to make her happy. Simple and small as that picture. Eight years ago something else could make her the happiest person on Earth, and it was her being accepted to study Fine Arts in King’s College, London, UK. And she actually got there. Her biggest dream so far came true, so she realized that she had to give her best in order to progress. It was tiring. It was not easy at all. During her first year in London she got two part-time jobs as well as one of the best marks at college and many important professors’ attention and even respect ((she speaks 5 languages fluently and plays on a piano)). As hard as it was, Siana stayed pretty grounded – she wanted to stay financially independent from her parents and to build her own reputation in the arts spheres of London. And it could have stayed so, if she had not met him. The one that rocked her world, the one that turned all her plans upside down, the one that changed her life and, more importantly, changed her. Charlie Baker. A young and reckless rock star right in the beginning of the rise of his and his band’s career. Now, after having met Samson, she could not tell that this thing with Charlie was love from first sight, but then… Oh, then she totally lost all her mind. The strong, independent and talented young lady quickly turned into a third-grader in love. Hardcore, motorbikes, leather jackets and DR Martens usually go along with long tours all over the world full of music and arts as well as of drugs and alcohol. Soon Siana found herself into a world that was not hers, a world in which she could not control anything, not even herself. It was not only the drugs – she was not the junkie that Charlie and the rest of the band were, but she could barely handle the emotionality she had first as a woman, and then as an artist. However, she managed somehow to graduate. But she was not careful then. They weren’t. Having pressure from the band’s manager, and being stressed by the press, Charlie turned into some kind of a monster to everyone except for his band mates, his girlfriend and his random hookups. It was all a mess, a huge chaotic mess of feelings, actions and words; tears, sweat and passion. All in one. The sun is shining bright above Brunswick. Even through the sun glasses, it is making her half-closing her eyes. Just like the flashes from the famous photographers she had been modeling for. She just could not resist, when that guy from a famous model agency stopped her in the middle of the street and made her an offer. And it seemed to be fun – meeting a lot of people such as popular designers, photographers and other artists. Plus, the fairytale was full – the story of the passionate love between an exotic Bulgarian model and a rising British rock star. All this had its perks, but also – its disadvantages. Charlie got so much into the whole alcohol/drugs thing that he soon became more aggressive, rude and impatient than ever before, and Siana – getting deeper and deeper into the modeling industry – developed an eating disorder. She got into a hospital several times because of malnutrition. Even when she made the decision of quitting the modeling business, things did not get better. They actually got even worse. I am looking at her. She is barely taking her eyes off the man and the boy in front of her sight; the two people on this planet she loves the most; Samson Fletcher and her son. Her son. Siana got pregnant at the age of 22 – just graduated, with no secure job, with no permanent home and with, well, Charlie. It was so unexpected that it blew their minds away. Charlie gone totally mad, discovering that he was about to become a father of a child he actually did not want to have. Completely frustrated of what was happening, Siana decided to get rid of the baby. The abortion was not going to be an easy task, though – physically, but even more mentally. How could she kill a human being, a small already living creature? She could not. She did not have the right to do this, and – more importantly – she did not want to do it. After a huge amount of talks, discussions, fights, breaking ups and getting back together over and over again, Siana found the courage to take that step and make an abortion. And, oh, how sure in the right of this she was, but only until she found out about all of Charlie’s (not so) secret affairs here and there. And this time he did not even try to deny it. At the last minute before the abortion, being boundlessly mad at him, Siana decided to keep the baby. The night she night she told him about that was the night she went back to her parents in Bulgaria – nobody should use, tolerate or keep in secret any kind of physical abuse. She is glancing for one astronomically short part of the second at the glass of orange juice on the table. Her smile fades for a while, but then it appears again – this time even warmer than before, because now, five years later, she has everything she has been dreaming about. Radoslav, her son, was feeling more than great with his mother and Samson. And as for the man, Siana could not imagine what her life would be like, if she had not met him on the rooftop that awards night in New York, where she and Radoslav (from Bulgarian – “happiness, joy”) lived. She was a make-up artist there, working at the same artistic field as Samson Fletcher that was a director. That Hollywood atmosphere got them together, but it was also about to separate them – at one point the stress, the distance, the hard work, the red carpets, and all that jazz started having its impact on their relationship, so they made a decision to (finally!) start living together not anywhere else, but in Brunswick, Maine. Samson kept his job shifting to a theater director, while Siana invested a big amount of her savings into a small boutique, where she could free her imagination and create pure masterpieces. Luckily, she found the perfect partner for getting into that business – Isaac Baharoff; a lovely talented homosexual Russian designer with loads of social connections and incredibly colorful mind. Siana is running the boutique along with him, her and her new family’s best friend. She looks happy. Entirely happy. She does not know that tomorrow she is going to receive a call from Charlie Baker of the famous rock band The Stickers. She is smiling at me. I am asking her why. ‘Why not?’, she answers. And really… Why not? BEHIND THE MASK NEG | 20 | GMT | LAM | WILL REVIVE ANDREI Siana was looking straight into Samson’s eyes still wondering how this man could do something so amazing to her – she had an emotionally burning personality, but she was feeling way calmer being around him. If she had the same conversation with someone else, for example, Charlie, she would have probably be throwing things, and screaming, and crying, and wanting to run away, and probably really running away. It would have been an ugly picture, looking like a real fight between two people. This argument she had with Samson was on a way different level, though. He gave her chance to speak, to say out loud her opinion on the current situation; he listened to her, and then he tried to understand her – and, oh, he did. All these were things that Charlie had never been doing to Siana, or to anybody else in his life. And this made her realize that she did not have the right to compare Samson to Charlie. Just like Samson did not compare her to Delilah. Bearing in mind that this was the first controversy between Siana and Sam, it was something new to her. She knew well that her excuse was not going to wash away everything that had been said, but at the same time she was not feeling sorry for saying the words she said. They presented her thoughts – or her fears, to be clearer – and she did not want to hide anything from Samson. It still hurt like hell that he had hidden that from her, though. Why did not he tell her? She wanted to be his stronghold in his hardest times. She wanted Samson to look up to her and share with her, when he needed help or simply had the need to talk to someone. About anything. Siana wanted him to know that she was strong enough to take care for him. She was just not strong enough to fight herself, when she was wrapped up in her own fears. Siana did not want to lose Samson. That was probably her biggest fear, and although she knew that the biggest enemy of people was not hate, but it was fear, she just could not fight it. Because fear made people do things they would not do otherwise. She loved him more than she had planned to, and even if their relationship had its quirks, they were too small, and she did not regret it. She was sure that she would never leave his side, and she knew as well that he would not do it too, but that this fear was blurring her mind, her consciousness and she was doing things and saying words that she did not want to do or say. Samson was begging her for her patience, and if that was what he wanted and needed, she would give it to him. Siana nodded lightly at first, but then more confident. If that was the only way she could help him, she would give her best. She felt a sudden urge to grab the back of cigarettes and throw it away in front of his eyes, but she knew that was not right. If being patient and standing by his side was the right way she could help Samson, she would do it. These thoughts were passing through her mind, and she was repeating them again and again preventing herself from saying something else that would hurt him - both of them – even more than her previous words. She did not want to hurt him. Siana breathed in silently, and then sighed quietly convincing herself that she could be helpful in anyway Samson wanted her to be. She had to be strong… Siana slipped her hand into Samson’s hand looking straight into his eyes. The night now could continue to its plan. They were together now; they have never been apart anyway. There was a difference, though – they were together now, and they could be strong together. They were. |
