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| Tweet Topic Started: Jan 5 2017, 03:55 AM (16 Views) | |
| sunshine | Jan 5 2017, 03:55 AM Post #1 |
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Broussard Estate New Orleans, Louisiana A magnolia scented breeze wafts through the open bay doors that lead into the burgundy and cream colored receiving parlor, a room that comforted Eva when she was in turmoil. And today was one of the most tumultuous of her young life. Today was THE day. The day she was going to come completely clean with her fiancé, Dean Davies. She was wearing a hole in the plush beige carpet, pacing back and forth as she wondered how to tell him the bitter truth. Would he still want her? Her musings were interrupted by the warm, concerned voice of her brother, Marcus. Marcus Broussard: Ma souer, Maman is gonna kill you for ruinin’ ‘er carpet. What’s got you in such a mood? You’re never like dis. He walks over to the burgundy sofa and takes a seat, patting the spot next to him. Marcus Broussard: Come on, ‘ave a seat an’ unburden your soul. You know your cher frère is ‘ere ta listen. Eva gives Marcus a sideways glance as she chewed her bottom lip, continuing to pace for a few more moments before finally joining him. She leans into him and lets out a heavy sigh. Eva Broussard: Marcus, do you think Dean really loves me? I mean, really loves me, no matter what? Marcus puts his arm around her shoulders and gently squeezed, trying to reassure her. Marcus Broussard: Of course ‘e does, why else would ‘e ask you ta marry ‘im? He pauses as a thought crosses his mind and he leans back as he looked at her. Marcus Broussard: Eva, tell me ya didn’ do somethin’ stupid, like cheat on ‘im. Eva looks back in horror. Eva Broussard: Mon Dieu, NON! I love him with every part of me, Marcus. I - I just don’t know if he’ll still want me after I tell him about… Realization dawns on him finally, causing Marcus to engulf her in a hug so fierce it took her breath away. Marcus Broussard: You’re gonna tell ‘im, aren’t you? Another voice answers before Eva could reply, this one full of confusion. Dean Davies: Tell me what? Marcus scrambls to his feet, his face mottled red in embarrassment. He leans down and kisses his sister on top of the head before edging around Dean. Marcus Broussard: I think it’s better if you ‘ear it from ‘er. Eva, it’ll be fine. Jus’ tell ‘im. As Marcus exits the room, Dean takes his place next to her, his face full of concern. Dean Davies: Alright love, what’s going on and why in hell was your brother so dead set on not being here when you tell me? She keeps her watery, emerald eyes downcast, her lip trembling as she spoke. Eva Broussard: Dean, there’s something about me I think you should know before we actually get married. You need to know everything but honestly, I didn’t want to lose a moment with you. And I’m afraid that’s exactly what’s going to happen when you hear it. Dean picks up her hand, bringing it to his lips gently as he watched her. Dean Davies: Love, I’m not going anywhere. Nothing you tell me - outside of you banging someone else - is going to make me leave your side. Just tell me and we’ll deal with this together. Her eyes well up even more as she gripped his hand tightly. Eva Broussard: Dean, I’ll understand if this is a deal breaker but I - I can’t have children. I was attacked and beaten so severely one year at Mardi Gras that the doctor said I was lucky to be alive. But the damage was done. If Julian and Marcus hadn’t found me when they did, they would’ve raped me too. She sighs heavily again, pulling her hand away. Eva Broussard: I know I should’ve told you sooner but - Dean brings his index finger up to her full lips, halting her words. Dean Davies: Stop, just stop. Look at me, love. He puts his hand under her chin and lifts her face gently. Dean Davies: This is not a deal breaker by any means. There are alternatives that we can look into when the time is right. Nothing says we can’t still be parents, Eva. Absolutely nothing - except us. A smile creeps across her lips as he winks at her playfully. Dean Davies: And besides, I’m not ready to give up that perfect body of yours anyway. I’ve still got a lot of ideas we haven’t tried yet. She throws her arms around his neck, laughing with relief as she hugged him tightly. Eva Broussard: Love, it is all yours, and only yours. ------------------------------------------------ The scene transitions to another receiving parlor, only this one is done in royal blue and gold and exquisitely furnished. The far wall is lined in floor to ceiling bookcases, the genres ranging from Sun Tsu’s “The Art of War” to Margaret Mitchell’s “Gone With The Wind”. Reclined back on the blue and gold embroidered brocade sofa is none other than Eva Broussard-Davies. Her feet are tucked under her and her Classic championship is laying across her lap. She strokes the nameplate lovingly as the shot zooms in closer. Eva Broussard-Davies: For the Love of Gold...a rather apropos name, don’t you think? One could say it was named for me alone. I have to admit I do love gold; this gold in particular. It doesn’t quite measure up to this gold though - close but not quite. She brings her left hand up and the large diamond sparkles as she rubs the wide gold band. Eva Broussard-Davies: My favorite piece of gold in the world but that shouldn’t fool you into thinking I’m willing to let my championship go without a fight. And apparently, that’s what I’m in for - at least that’s what poor, little simpleton John Doe would lead you to believe. Her hand goes back to the Classic championship as she pierces the camera with her gaze. Eva Broussard-Davies: Unwashed, uneducated, and untrained John Doe wants a fight because that’s all he knows. He thinks this will fall into his lap because he’s bigger and stronger - and let’s face it, not smart enough to know when he’s outmatched and outclassed. Does he honestly think that I’m going to go shot for shot with him? She begins to laugh, shaking her head no. Eva Broussard-Davies: Of course he does. You know why? Because he doesn’t understand the concept of fighting smarter not harder. That is why I gave him his little vacation a few weeks ago. Not out of fear, not out of cowardice, but out of strategy. I could have ended his career that night, but I didn’t. If I wanted him completely out of commission, I would’ve brought Dean and David along for the ride. Instead, I made a statement that night - all on my own. She smiles sadistically and leans forward. Eva Broussard-Davies: I wanted you to know your place, John. And that place is not number one contender to MY title. You haven’t earned it, and you sure as hell don’t deserve it. I wanted you to know that I held your career in my hands and I gave you a break. Well, a few actually, but that’s beside the point. Eva picks her title up and settles it over her shoulder as she sits back again. Eva Broussard-Davies: Poor John thought he was a hapless victim of our dear sadistic Captain Howdy. And I just couldn’t let that go on. That was work to be proud of. A work of art, in my opinion. And I was the artist. Only I worked in blood and pain, not oils or watercolors. She flipped her red tipped locks over her shoulder, shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly. Eva Broussard-Davies: I gave you chance after chance to take my generous offer. I gave you an opportunity to make your meager dreams come true and you slapped my hand away. Instead, you have the gall to call me greedy. You’re a hypocrite, John. Money wasn’t enough for you, was it? You have to try to take what rightfully belongs to me; the Classic championship. Your greed guides you - and it’s guiding you straight to your downfall. She takes the title from her shoulder and lays it next to her, leaning in once more. She gives a twisted smile as the shot tightens in. Eva Broussard-Davies: You aren’t the first man to try and use their size to their advantage, John, and you won’t be the last. There’s a saying - the bigger they are, the harder they fall - and fall you will, just like the others. You are just the next victim in line and believe me when I tell you, I’m going to enjoy my next masterpiece. |
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7:16 PM Jul 11
