Let me in...

He walked in (M)

My eyes helplessly drifted across the room, I needed some kind of freedom from this life. 
My name is Marilyn, and yes, an artist, actress or whatever you may. I came along to find fame, some new-founded fame, a comfortable life where I can express myself with no boundaries. I found it here, but I also found entrapment as well. The constant simplification of admiration, proposals off-screen and the lustful looks I get from men when I go to restaurants or other places.

I couldn't help feeling that my looks were doing the better of me, gaining unnecessary attention.

I'd give them a night, one night, that's all they ask for. A long sweet and passionate night where they whisper words of love and the next morning, I'd walk right out as though nothing had happened. 

At first I was fine with this. A one-night stand full of passion and excitement, but then it became boring. I started to long for commitment and love. 
Can someone like me find love after going through sporadity? 

After a long year of working, I decided to spend the three months of blissful summer in the St.Lucia, a quiet place but it's so picturesque. The sea and a beautiful beach-house with an enormous balcony of the world below. Three months of bliss. What I had been craving for, my personal freedom. 

I dream of encounters, an encounter, but this summer is for me and myself only.
So here I am, reading by the pool, wearing a short white dress leaving my long legs exposed to the sun's warmth. Across the beach, I saw several people surfing, laughing and having a good time. Together.
Maybe that's what I needed. Company perhaps? No. I couldn't, and can't. 

A few hours passed and the evening sunset was looming in beautifully and the beach was virtually empty. I decided to visit the sea and take a dip in the water. 
Walking towards the sea, I saw a figure standing in the water. It was a man, wearing no top obviously, feeling the warmth of the water. I wondered i he was aware that I was watching him. 
He stretched out his arms gliding into the water, almost carelessly. The back of him looked gorgeous, so pure and angelic. Almost as though he deserved to be admired. 

That's when he turned around to the sand and I saw him. 

JAMES DEAN?! 

He's trouble, if there's anything I'd known. He was a gorgeous, beautiful piece of mess who was trouble. I continued looking at him as he innocently playfully picked up his towel and started making his way. 
That's when he looked up and saw me, immediately fixating his gaze.
His eyes shifted away at first, almost shyly. I, deciding to be polite, gave him a small wave. 

I've heard of James Dean. The young, brooding talent who was brimming in the industry, a gorgeous piece of mess. No-one knew much about him, except for the fact that he was a misfit. Finding it a struggle to fit into a world so radically changed. 
Although I knew he was, I'd always admired him. I thought he was gorgeous, beautiful-he had an innocent angelic nature to him which made him lovable, but he was loveless. 

He shied away from my wave and smiled consciously, like a little boy. I decided to approach him as he dried his hair, almost trying to compose himself.