Beauties and Beasts

Prologue

Who are these "beguiling" women? Why are they special? What are their hang-ups with men? Tune in below for not-sexy setup, tragic backstory, and face-sized cinnamon rolls!

Lowefantasy starts. Tyndali, who is writing in collaboration with Lowefantasy, shall do the next chapter. From then on, both pathetic writers (in self-evaluation, not in writing skill) shall switch off writing the chapters, snorting and giggling and secretly licking their fingers all along. We apologize ahead of time for our lack of professionalism despite the fact that we both have the know-how to be professionals when it comes to writing (hazah college education). This work of fiction is our play, not our job.

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"I can't believe I keep beating you." Shay closed her DS in triumph and carefully placed it back in her bag. The flair covering the poor backpack tinkled when she slung it over her shoulder. "Seriously, dude, the future is not Psychic types. Dragon and Steel are what it's all about."

"I don't play Pokemon to be competitive; I do it because I think they're cute and I love them." Neara shut her own DS, a twinge of sadness flickering across her face.

"You say that and yet you pick all the ugly ones."

Neara gasped. "Take that back."

"It's because I love mine that I make them awesome, despite their cuteness. Except for Pikachu. I can't make him bamf no matter what I do, but I keep him for nostalgia's sake." She squinted her eyes against the bright sun baking the pavement around them. "Ever notice how nobody walks around anymore? They take those little wheeley electric scooter things. No wonder we're all fat. And aren't they expensive?"

"Probably too much for two college students on a budget." Neara knelt by her bag and zipped her DS into its case, placing it safely inside.

"So have you decided whether or not you're going to pass German?"

"I'm thinking I'll just beg the teacher to give me extra lessons."

"Dude, you're already going to the TA's after-class sessions and his review sessions on the weekends. Maybe it's time to admit German isn't your thing."

"I've never failed a class before," Neara mumbled, not wanting to argue about the subject.

"Then maybe you should stay for the experience. Help you realize that you're okay and still loved even if you do fail."

"I don't think my gpa cares about my emotional health."

Shay merely raised an eyebrow. At this point, Shay was used to her friend's stubborn anxiety and, after saying her piece, couldn't really justify the effort needed to sway her opinion, which mostly led to Neara agreeing to save face, then doing what she wanted anyway.

But just gracing upon the subject had caused their otherwise happy, post-pokemon atmosphere to go sour. Since she had brought up German class, Shay knew it was her responsibility to fix this. And she knew just the thing.

"Joe's Bakery?"

Neara jumped to her feet. "Pssh, yeah! Face-size cinnamon roll, here I come!" She swung her leather satchel onto her shoulder.

"I can't believe you can eat an entire one of those monsters without getting sick."

"Oh, I get sick. I just don't care. The sickness is weakness leaving my body... or something."

The bakery in question had been a favorite haunt of theirs since they'd met a little over a year ago the summer before their senior year of high school. It became more so after Neara's messy break up with her socially messier boyfriend and she needed the outings (and possibly the deliciousness) to keep him out of her head. Shay had been more than happy to accompany her, taking any excuse to stay out of home.

As they came to the crosswalk across the street from the bakery, Neara gave the walking button a comical slap. "Slap that baby!" she cried.

"Make him free!" added Shay.

"I'm glad you got that! I didn't want to be that weirdo randomly smacking traffic buttons. Dance magic dance. Speaking of babies," Neara glanced over her shoulder as she adjusted the strap of her book bag. "How's your mom doing?"

Shay instantly sobered. "I..." she sighed and looked up at the passing traffic. "I think I smelled beer on her breath last night."

Neara stared. "While she's pregnant?"

"Maybe I'm wrong."

"Let's hope so."

"If she'd just divorce that jerk..."

Neara nodded sagely. "Solitude would be a better coping mechanism than alcohol."

"Well, now that she's pregnant she doesn't think she should get out. He gets all friendly and sappy when she's pregnant, and she always thinks it's going to last."

"Ew. I'm sorry. The abuse cycle sucks."

Shay said nothing, not wanting to prompt another anxiety attack from her friend. Neara's ex was a touchy subject and anything related to him sent her friend downhill faster than a kid on a skateboard. Why'd she keep tripping into land mines? She, as best friend, was supposed to be helping, not feeding into it!

The light turned red and the crosswalk beeped. The girls crossed with one eye to the stopped traffic. The cars restarting at a green light lifted strands of dark brown hair from Shay's long ponytail.

"My dad may be chauvinistic," said Neara. "But at least he's not that bad."

"You keep saying that, but I have yet to witness it. I don't think chauvinistic means what you think it does."

"It's only because he's friendly on the outside and sexist on the inside."

"Dude, that's most people." The smell of fresh bread and donut glaze lured them onwards, though they both stopped to admire the new selection at the bookstore.

"Ok, I'm just saying don't knock it because you didn't personally witness it."

"I'm not saying that, I'm just questioning what your definition of chauvinism is." Shay, eager to change the subject yet again, pointed to a dark book with a golden dagger. "That one looks like it's about a princess who has to become an assassin."

"Yeah, and I bet she has a love triangle or something in there."

"Blech. Can't people just get a man and stick with them? I hate these stupid 'will-they-won't-they' that everyone just drools over." Shay swiped at her nose and sniffed derisively.

"Yeah, they're just so poorly done nowadays. Instead of them coming together sometimes, it's just them hating each other to them banging each other."

"Like one-night stands never happened." Shay looked at the book's title and sneered, "His Deepest Desire, I love it. All the hokey. All the corny. Don't you ever just walk through the romance section just to read the titles and giggle?"

"That's why I stick to comedy." Neara pointed to an autobiography of Tiny Fey, slightly bleached from the sun. "Hashtag, all the funny."

"Cinnamon rolls then title reading?" She jerked her head to the store next door, which had a door with a big cartoon of a steaming loaf of bread, then started walking.

Neara leaned towards the entry of the bookstore and took a whiff, filling her lungs with her favorite smell. Sighing a little, she jogged after her friend, bag bumping against her thigh with every other step.

Bells tinkled as Shay opened the glass door.

"Do you think they have fruit tar---" Shay stopped abruptly.

Neara opened her mouth to ask what was wrong, but ended up closing it so quickly her teeth clacked.

Instead of the familiar aroma of baked bread, a crisp, pine-scented breeze washed over them. With it, like the shift of colors when one's eyes readjust, a much different scene than that of a small town bakery appeared before their eyes.