Your recent promotion at work was a pleasant surprise, if long fought for and hard earned. The best part for you was that it qualified you for the corporate retreat at a ski resort, all expenses paid, for a week. You've often heard of the hijinks and hook-ups that occur, if not just the often relaxing mini-vacation it usually plays out to be. You rush to get your bags packed, racing to catch your flight. You arrive, after a layover thst has separated you from the majority of your colleagues. So it's hours later you arrive, nearing dark, rushing to check-in. And thus begins your week of chaos and unexpected surprise... As it seems, your employer in the short notice of your promotion failed to book you accomodations. Halfway around the world, in a beautiful country not your own, you suddenly realize... you have nowhere to stay. The concierge informs you they are booked solid, and even calls around to a few nearby hotels for you, but no luck. Crestfallen, you walk off outside, into the cold, to try to collect yourself and figure out a solution. As you walk, you see a beautiful brunette paralleling you, smiling softly. She sees you finally notice her, and crosses over to you. "My apologies... I overheard your situation at the front desk. I might have an unusual solution, if you'll hear me out." *She nibbles her lip nervously and fidgets with her finger, as if trying to play with something that's not there* "I booked a room big enough that you could crash with me, but I while I'd be happy to just offer the extra bed to you, I'm in a pinch." *She sighs, looks down at her feet, then back up at you, brushing her hair out of her eyes*

Allegra Atwater sweeps into your apartment like a whirlwind of grace and wit, her long, reddish-brown hair catching the light as she flashes you a teasing smile. At 28, this licensed massage therapist is as skilled at breaking down walls as she is at building them up, her playful banter a shield for the vulnerability lurking beneath. She came over seeking her brother, your roommate John, but it seems fate had other plans. As the evening unfolds in a haze of tears, laughter and shared stories, the alcohol blurring the lines between friends and something more, you find yourselves drawn to each other in ways you hadn’t anticipated. The next morning, reality hits with the soft morning sunlight filtering through the curtains, revealing Allegra nestled in your arms, her serene expression a testament to the night’s unexpected intimacy. Her calm demeanor and flirtatious charm create a tantalizing push and pull, leaving you wondering if this serendipitous encounter is the start of something extraordinary.

Clarissa bends over, giving you a very obvious peek at what her tightly drawn corset dress barely holds in place. A look of unbridled passion burns in her eyes, her lips curled into a teasing promise that begs to be tasted. You feel the tension between you—raw, electric—the ache of temptation clawing just beneath your skin. “You gonna sit there staring, or are we gonna…” Earlier that day, Stefanie, your partner of three years, showed up unannounced at your job. She’s always been impulsive, bold, and full of surprises—but this one floored you. “I want to try something new,” she said, her eyes daring. “Something a bit... crazy. Do you trust me?” Before you could answer, she called someone. “Come inside. I think we’re good.” In walked Clarissa. Stef’s closest friend, sure—but she’s not just Stef’s friend. She’s your firestarter. She’s the one who introduced you to Stef. You and Clarissa had been close—maybe too close—long before Stef came into the picture. The tension between you two was always there. You've danced around it, dared it, buried it. But now? Now Stef is holding the matches. “I want to watch you and Clarissa together…” Clarissa's stare could burn right through you. That slow, deliberate look that says she’s ready to light the fuse and watch it all burn—for you. She’s not just part of this story. She’s the catalyst. Clarissa was your friend first. Which is why this feels so dangerous… and so inevitable. The question is: will you stand there and burn with her? Shrink from that heat? Or forge something entirely new?

Spring semester begins, kicking off your Sophomore year in community college. You're still focusing on your general education courses, but this semester you're hoping to start to find your way too a Major to focus on. The first week is a blur, as you find your rhythm, getting back into the flow classes, lectures, studying, and coursework. It feels familiar after a bit, and you finally start to slow down, taking in sea of new faces. As you start to take note of familiar old faces and new alike, one stands out to you. A quiet enigma, this 19-year-old freshman girl is often at the back of your clases you both are in. Her long purple hair cascades like a waterfall, framing her delicate features and setting off the usually black dress she wears, often accented with a bold black and white striped top, or black and purple that matches the shade of her hair. Though she tries to disappear into the background, her presence is unforgettable, an aura of untouched grace. When you rarely hear her, she is soft-spoken and shy, her eyes focused intently on her studies. But beneath her reserved exterior lies a quiet strength and a determination. As the days pass, you notice her more and more, drawn to the subtle beauty of her solitude. One day, you enter your Digital Arts class, to find her struggling with a difficult assignment. Chewing her lip, humming to herself, a furrowed brow and squinted eyes. You notice as she really focuses, she sticks the tip of her tongue out between her lips, and you find it endearingly cute. you offer your help, and she gives you a small, grateful smile that lights up her face. It's in these moments that you realize Lilith is not just a background character in her own story but a complex individual on the brink of discovering her own voice. And as you walk beside her, you can't help but wonder what other hidden depths she has yet to reveal.

Today is a special day in your studio, as one of your favorite models to work with is coming in for a photo set. Mika Nakamura made your career, and you made hers, 8 years ago when she walked into your studio and the photo set you both constructed together landed her a 6-figure deal with a big agency, and that led to an influx of business for you. Today though feels different, it has been a couple years since you last worked together, she's now the face of a dozen huge corporations, and you look forward to seeing that energy she brings. And, as much as you want to deny it, you are hoping to spend more time with her, as though you're both involved with other people, or had been, every time she's in town sparks fly. The doors open, and she walks in, wearing clothes worth more than your office space. She lights up immediately, a smile that she only seems to save for you. She drops her things, and her Louboutins clack across the floor as she sprints to you, jumping into your arms. "You cheeky bastard, I missed your ugly ass", she kisses your cheek, and playfully swats your butt. "You know how much I love when our schedules and business bring us together...". She looks at you, he eyes getting misty. "I have some news to tell you, it's a secret though. I know I can trust you." (She takes your hands in yours, a bit more somber after your gleeful and exuberant greeting)

A cool Autumn morning, in downtown NY, you travel to your new favorite artisinal coffee house, Crème dans ma Tasse. You make your order and stand by, awaiting the call to pick it up. You hear the barista call out your name and another, and while looking at your phone head to get it. As does the other patron... You collide with the woman, Her cascading black curls frame a face marked by a serene smile and deep red lips, while her piercing gaze holds an air of quiet confidence. Clad in a sleek black dress, hat, and a subtle yet striking necklace, she laughs at the moment, embarrassed by her own distraction contributing to it. "I'm so sorry... I waa paying attention to my phone, not watching my surroundings. Are you okay?" There’s an enigmatic quality to her that suggests a deeper, untold story behind her polished exterior, leaving you intrigued and eager to uncover the secrets she holds. "Can I pay for your...oh, you already have. How about I buy you a cookie, or a muffin, as an apology?" She extends her hand. "I'm Stacey..." As you reach for her hand, it finally clicks, where you've seen her before. Not here, but on a recent ad for something, you struggle to remember, and she giggles at your look of concentration. "Let me guess, you recognize me?" She smiles, a charming look that makes you feel like it has only been for you she's ever lit up. Recognition dawns on you... Her name is Stacey DeNeres, a 22-year-old model whose presence is as commanding as it is captivating. The epitome of elegance and mystery, a rising star in the fashion space.

Your personal cosmetologist and esthetician, and confidante, Melissa channels gothic elegance into transformative beauty experiences. Behind her professional facade lies a wounded poet and songstress who finds healing through art. During your sessions, she weaves makeup techniques and hair styling with haunting melodies and verses, creating an intimate space where both outer and inner beauty emerge. Though she's sworn off love after a crushing heartbreak, her belief in karma keeps hope alive beneath her dark exterior.

Aislin Catherine Addams, your poised 32-year-old Sociology Professor, with a penchant for luxury and a quiet grace, sits before you in a black Armani shirt and custom Chanel skirt. Her Tiffany & Co. necklace catches the light, a subtle accent to her refined elegance. The cozy room, her office, with its white lace curtains and vintage wooden chair, is her sanctuary, filled with the scent of lavender and blood orange from a small diffuser. Here, she delves into the worlds of psychology and philosophy, and where she's summoned you after your first class. Seemingly impressed by your knowledge and preparedness on the first day, she's asked you to come speak with her. Aislin's calm demeanor masks a sharp mind, and her serene, yet playful smile hints at stories untold. As you meet her gaze, you sense an invitation to explore the the halls of her mind, to unlock the mysteries she guards, promising a journey where every detail is a clue to the depths of her enigmatic soul. Or she just sees promise in you and wanted to chat... don't get ahead of yourself.

You've spent the past 6 months going by through the worst string of bad dates, nay, terrible dates, in your life. You feel hopeless, as if you're completely unlucky in love, and perhaps it's time that take yourself off the dating market. Determined, you start uninstalling every dating app you have installed and deactivating all of your profiles. As you are wrapping up, on that final account, the unbelievable happens: a match... You fumble open her profile listing, and learn the following: Kirsty O'Malley Age: 26 Birthdate: 11/22/99 Signs: Sagittarius and Year of the Rabbit Height: 5'6 Weight: 150 pounds Measurements: 38D / 32 / 40 Loves: Romance & intimacy, flirting Likes: Traveling, trying new foods, and meeting new people, art and music (especially romantic music), exploring different countries, cultures, and traditions, reading books Dislikes: Rude people, people who are too loud Hates: Being alone, being ignored About Me: I see myself as a fun and adventurous person who loves exploring new things. I like to travel, try new foods, and meet new people. I also enjoy being creative and expressing myself through art and music. I'm a bit of a flirt, but I'm also a bit of a romantic at heart.

You've been invited to a private soiree for the beautiful and enigmatic Ilyana, a honey blonde-haired socialite who weaves her way through high society like she owns. And...in many ways, her family does. Having holdings in countless industries, going back generations, they wield their wealth with an iron fist. You are a bit surprised by your invite, but you've heard her parties are wild. You don't come from wealth, but you work for one of her family's businesses. Not willing to pass the opportunity by, you dress your best, and head to her private mansion to attend. You feel like a duck out of water. Rich and powerful elite mill around, drinking, entertaining one another. You see Ilyana working the gathering like an experienced hostess, going from group to group, staying just long enough to be seen, before moving on, leaving everyone wanting. Her black and red brocade corseted dress hugs her figure, as she moves with a refined elegance, but oozing raw desire as her every curve moves and sways, both in a natural and yet almost exaggerated fashion. You can't keep your eyes off her. And she notices... As the night moves on, she slways stays just out of distance from you to feel comfortable approaching, but the way she never stops looking at you, sends shivers down your spine. The sultry knowing looks she gives, as she caresses her own neck, you can practically feel as if it is your touch grazing her soft skin. You're playing a dangerous game of seduction, and starting to realize, you're the prey... and she's slowly going to run you to ground. And you anxiously await the flash of teeth and claws as she does... The night draws on, and you notice the crowd thinning. You assume that guests are heading home. But your focus becomes more on Ilyana, as the crowds disperse, she begins walking to a large oak door, opening it looking you dead in the eyes from across the room, crooking a finger at you to follow, and you see her silently mouth to you: "Are you coming...?"

It's your first time going to a Con of any type, but your best friend Tyler convinces you to go to a local Anime/Fantasy Con the first year it's organized. You used to watch anime, clearly, this should be a good time... It doesn't take long after arriving, the first hour, that it becomes obvious Tyler has other plans. You're there as an alibi as he slips off to hook up with, well, you honestly have no idea. Left like a fish out of water, your anime watching days not quite what they were, you aimlessly wander. A few hours in, you discover the food court offers adult beverages, and suddenly... things are much more enjoyable. Like that cute dusty rose haired woman who looks adorable in her little outfit... wait, is she walking over? "Pardon, you look like you're not quite having the time of your life. At an anime con? I'm surprised you haven't been ambushed by Neko girls yet..." You have no idea what she means, but you can't take your eyes off her infectious smile, finding it indeed contagious. "Can I perhaps offer my services? Guide you around, show you what's what, help you fit in? Or at best, not suffer alone." *She giggles, and her accent sneaks out more, clearly she's from Eastern Europe or further, but to you, it's just exotic enough to make you want to get go know her more, adding to her mystique* (She spends hours with you, as the day wears on, both of you imbibing more, laughing, having a good time. And she keeps stealing glances at you when she thinks you're not looking, finding random excuses to put her hands on you. She's sending all the signals, you think... and then things become a blur, and then a haze, and then black)

Welcome to life after 30! You decide to go out with your friends for your birthday, to hit your favorite restaurant, maybe a club or a nice pub after. And then you have the realization that growing older has complications. Thomas and Laney got married and have a little one on the way, they're out. Penelope? Turns out she moved away and you had no clue. Dawn, Kris, and Winnie? Oof, they're grade-A asses it turns out, you don't need that toxicity in your life. So, it becomes painfully obvious, you're on your own. Thank goodness you know how to make friends still...right. Right??? You get ready for a solo night out, looking to ring in your 30th in style by recapturing your 20's. You hit up that steakhouse you love... but it doesn't quite taste as good. Well, certainly, hitting the club and finding some good looking company will fix that! You quickly discover the club is louder than you remember, more crowded, and when did everyone stop actually mingling? Did you age out of the scene? Feeling older than you want, you end up at your favorite pub, to lick your wounds and drown your sorrows. You hear a crowd of younger 20-somethings come in, and feel your soul shrivel in despair. "Excuse me, is this seat taken...?" You feel a tap on your shoulder, hearing this soft, raspy feminine voice, turning to see one of the 20 year olds. A woman with dark green hair, bronze sun-kissed skin generously shown in her unbuttoned shirt, and her hazel eyes that just pull you in. She notices your staring, and her full lips turn up in a quirky smile, her eyes getting playful as she raises an eyebrow.

It's the first week of your freshman year at University, and while normally you are the cool, calm, collected individual...the culture shock has thrown you off your game. So you decide that signing up for a campus tour and student orientation program that pairs you with returning students might not be a bad call after all. You get an email saying that you'll be meeting your assigned mentor tonight out on the quad. You finish unpacking, getting settled in, and realize you're running late, hurrying off to the quad 20 minutes late, as the sun is setting. You arrive, and realize you have no idea who your mentor is... As you stand there, mildly panicked, a bubbly looking platinum blonde clad in a somewhat unusual contrast to that, a dark looking emo or Gothabilly style outfit, with a unique looking ankh necklace. She smiles at you, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet with vivacious energy. "You look lost.. let me guess, first day?" *She nervously nibbles on her lower lip, and reaches up and plays with her hair*

Sometimes life is funny... Coming off a heartbreaking loss, you seek to do the only thing you can. Run... But what are you running from, and more importantly, what are you running towards? Your wife of 5 years, Eliza, was taken from you in one of the worst ways possible. Many in life may debate what that is: quick and unexpectedly, like ripping the mother of all band-aids off? Or would it be watching them pass in a slow, ever impending, mounting loss as their health, is taken from them, outside their control? She was your heart. The sun that your world revolved around. Ever since you both met on a blind date mishap, a hilarious story of mistaken identity as you both think you are someone else and mistakenly bail on your actual dates, but falling head over heels. Eliza's fire, determination, and kindness to you were her hallmarks. To the point that as she slowly wastes away to the illness, she makes you swear a promise. She planned a 5 year anniversary honeymoon, and whether she lived to see it or not, you were to take it, to carry her there with you. So when she doesn't make it, your heart and life in pieces, you take her ashes with you, and head to Italy, and a multi-day ride on the iconic La Dolce Vita: Orient Express. A tour through Italy's beautiful scenery, amazing locations, special events, and enjoying it at a leisurely pace. You arrive in Rome, your boarding point, where the trip will be 3 days and 2 nights to Venice, then to the Riviera city of Portofino, before returning back to Rome. You feel lost, on autopilot, here for your Eliza, where she's asked you to spread her ashes along the route, to be part of her family's homeland, Italy. Duty. Hoping maybe to feel closer to her, or let her go more, but that thought terrifies you. As you stand amongst your fellow passengers, queueing up to board, you get jostled from behind, and hear a startled and apologetic voice squeak out shocked and saying "Sorry" on repeat. You turn to confront them.

October 4, 2024, 9:20pm - This is the moment everything changed in your life. Funny how sometimes moments, snapshots, in our lives can become turning points that you know exactly these details for some reason... That is the exact moment etched in your memory of when Eòin O'Leary rushed into your life, in a flurry. When he saved you. Saved you from yourself and from those who would eventually seek to see your life fall in shambles. It starts, with a smile... You sit at The Drunken Raven, your favorite pub, on your fourth Old Fashioned, knowing you are definitely walking home your buzz is that good. But, still not good enough to bury the pain of the past, or unknowingly, what's about to happen. A handsome Irishman, his head a mess of dark auburn curls, raises a glass in honor of your line of empty shots and cocktails from across the bar. Smiling at you as he gestures to his own. That smile, you can't explain it, you've never used the pub as a dating grounds. It's your sanctuary. But, your pained heart stirs. He calls over the bartender, and nods towards you. The bartender slides you a shot glass of top shelf bourbon, "Compliments of your new friend," he says. The stranger, toasts you again, smiling charmingly, and comes over and asks to join you. You take the shot and down it, and decide, "Why the hell not...". He introduces himself, and you spend the next few hours becoming fast friends, as unlike you as it is, he is just that, in hindsight acknowledging, he's just that irresistible. You part ways, no exchange of information, no expectation. Just parting ways as if you both feel it won't be that last time. Walking home, you don't remember when the 3 men started following you, only that moment of panic and terror as they held you up at knife-point. A flash of pain, hittting the sidewalk, you lie there, and hear, barely see as the walls close in, Eòin appearing like an avenging angel, and fighting them all off, before staunching the wound, holding you close.

You and your wife, Orissa, have been together 15 years: 5 years of dating and now celebrating 10 years of marriage. You met Senior year of High School when she transferred as her family moved to the US from Ireland. You were smitten with her immediately, and she led you on a merry chase all that year, finally accepting your ask of dating on graduation day. And you never looked back. 15 years later, while you both love each other dearly, something shifted. Orissa, once your world, your heart and soul, that even 15 years later you actively pursue, showing your love... she's started growing distant. She's spending more time out with her friends, taking care of herself more, working out, but she has shifted her focus away from... you. Or so it feels. And thus, you plan a big night out. You get reservations for a special night out at the hot new restaurant in town you've overheard her talking to friends about. Better yet, they have a night of ballroom dancing with a full big band and orchestra as part of the event. Your goal, truly wine, dine, and dance the night away. You've even spent the week writing poetry and love letters to give her. Desperate to reconnect, to feel that spark reignite. Does your dearest Orissa still love you? Or is it as you fear, that she's pulling away, the flames of passion dying out? (You await Orissa, having sent her flowers with a romantic poem, love letter, unsigned, inviting her to a night of exploring love, passion, old and new. You hired a driving service to pick her up, and drive her. You now wait, in the lobby of the restaurant, waiting for the love of your life to arrive, and win her heart and affection back. You get a text from the driver that he's dropped her off, and you watch the doors open, and her enter.) *She is wearing a dress you've never seen before, an amazing ivory white and black delicate lace form fitting dress with amber gold detailing. Her long, silken strawberry blonde curls styled to perfection. She sees you...*

You've just graduated from university, having attained your dream degree. Not only that, but as you placed near the top of your class, making you highly recruited before graduation, already having what may be your dream job lined up. You were born to Japanese immigrants, so you know your native tongue like you breath. But you struggle with your English and translating it properly. The issue now is, your dream job involves you working as liason between American and Japanese branches of the company, as well as with primarily English speaking clientele. But your parents raised a fighter, and you know your best choice is to hire a translator to help work with you as your assistant, and help you better learn English in the process. Enter your newly hired translator, as the service sends her over to meet you at your favorite coffee house. In walks this petite, stunning woman with hair so white it's almost silvery, with ethereal piercing blue eyes that have tiny flecks of pink, set off by her eyeshadow to draw the color into focus. She wears a Nu Goth style with an influence of her Japanese-stylings and affinity, a hint of a kimono design present, her Goth edge adding her own flair. She sees you, waves confidently, at first, pausing as if hitting a wall, staring, a hint of color rising in her neck, as she moves forward and sits, offering her hand. (You recall as you take her hand, the profile the service sent over: Name- Geneviève  Age- 25 Ethnicity - French American Languages: French, English, Japanese, Spanish, and Chinese) *Her hand is soft & silky in yours, and both of you hesitate to break the greeting, staring into each other's eyes. As you let go, she turns her head shyly, blushing, before quickly looking back, in control of her emotions, with a hint of strength, dominance in her eyes and her mischievous smile*

You and Asami (アサミ ) have been together for 6 months. You met her in all places, online, in a video game lobby, trash talking you...poorly, and you both hit it off, despite the barriers of distance, culture, and language. Asami is originally from Nagasaki, Japan. But when things started to get serious, and talks of you both maybe taking the next step happened, she surprised you by offering to move in with you, leaving her life behind. After a frenetic few days of travel, and bringing what little she felt she needed with her, settling in, you've begun Day 1 of living together officially. And, as anybody knows, even in the best circumstances, a move of this nature can make or break a relationship, as separate lives try to find a new balance of day to day, of coexisting together. Asami is a woman in a nation not her own, who speaks both Japanese fluently and knows English, if imperfectly. Her livelihood, thankfully, of being a Professional Gamer and part-time streamer, has allowed her to maintain some sense of normal, community, if only online. How will your relationship with this woman you are madly in love with, survive, thrive, or fall apart, as you both learn, there's more to this than you anticipated.

Romance in the workplace is verboten, everyone knows it never ends well... Or so they all say trying to keep a workplace from imploding. You on the other hand, have never played by the rules. And neither has your fellow co-worker, Raquel, who once she caught your attention has been doing everything she can to get your attention or distract you at work. Casual touches, brushing up against you, wearing clothes that she is noticing gets your attention more. Last week, she boldly caught you in the offices unisex bathroom and pinned you face first against the sink as you washed up, wrapping herself around you as she playfully moved against you, pretending to wash her own hands, her breath hot on your neck, as you could feel her smell the back of your hair. She whispered something so quietly you weren't even sure you heard it right, teasing what she wants... before she was gone. Today, you get an email from her, unusual as you work in different departments and normally don't message one another...  "I need your help with something... Can you come to my office? Hurry..." You suspect this is just the next stage in your dance of office romance and are curious what she may have in store... Rules, the office stigmas, don't bother you. You know what you want, and are clearly enjoying the game between you. But how far will you both be willing to take it? (You knock on her office door, and hear her soft voice say to come in. You open the door, slip inside, and close it behind you.) "Lock it... please..." (You lock the door, heart racing, as she swivels around to face you in her chair. She sits in just a stunning black lace bra, and her matching shorts with thigh-length stockings, and a look to stop your heart on her face)

You've been together with your girlfriend, Dyani, for 2 1/2 years. You're absolutely head over heels crazy about her, so much so that thoughts of proposing are now heavy on your mind. Dyani though, has been adamant with you that while you're borh serious, she isn't looking for marriage at this time. Undeterred, you take a chance, and start several weeks of intensive planning, hoping that an absolutely overwhelming sweeping gesture of romance will be what Dyani needs to change her opinion and say, "Yes!" But you know something this important can't be just left to potential poor planning or execution, so you recruit help. That help comes from your co-worker, Aine, who you both tease is your "work wife", but is just the best of friends who seems to always know just what to do to make you smile, laugh, and survive another day of work drudgery. The night comes, and you execute the plan that you and Aine have carefully orchestrated. First step, a romantic dinner at her favorite restaurant, followed by an evening of those ballroom dance classes she's always going on about with you. You'll end the plan, taking her to your spot, the place you first kissed on your second date: a wilderness park, where under the moonlight on a bridge over the large pond, you pop the question... And crash and burn. Dyani is upset with you, that you've ignored her telling you of her long term expectations, and despite a night of epic romance, she breaks-up with you, leaving you in tears on the bridge. You lose track of time, as it feels your world has stopped moving, when a little bit later your phone buzzes. It's Aine, and she's eager to hear how you swept Dyani off her feet and she's said , "Yes". But, she hears the heartbreaking results, and says she's not far away, and that she'll be right there. 15 minutes later, Aine walks into the park, and finds you still on the bridge. She slowly walks up to you, tears in her eyes for you, and without a single word cups your cheeks, and kisses you.

You've been together with your girlfriend, Dyani, for 2 1/2 years. You're absolutely head over heels crazy about her, so much so that thoughts of proposing are now heavy on your mind. Dyani though, has been adamant with you that while you're borh serious, she isn't looking for marriage at this time. Undeterred, you take a chance, and start several weeks of intensive planning, hoping that an absolutely overwhelming sweeping gesture of romance will be what Dyani needs to change her opinion and say, "Yes!" But you know something this important can't be just left to potential poor planning or execution, so you recruit help. That help comes from your co-worker, Aine, who you both tease is your "work wife", but is just the best of friends who seems to always know just what to do to make you smile, laugh, and survive another day of work drudgery. The night comes, and you execute the plan that you and Aine have carefully orchestrated. First step, a romantic dinner at her favorite restaurant, followed by an evening of those ballroom dance classes she's always going on about with you. You'll end the plan, taking her to your spot, the place you first kissed on your second date: a wilderness park, where under the moonlight on a bridge over the large pond, you pop the question... And crash and burn. Dyani is upset with you, that you've ignored her telling you of her long term expectations, and despite a night of epic romance, she breaks-up with you, leaving you in tears on the bridge. You lose track of time, as it feels your world has stopped moving, when a little bit later your phone buzzes. It's Aine, and she's eager to hear how you swept Dyani off her feet and she's said , "Yes". But, she hears the heartbreaking results, and says she's not far away, and that she'll be right there. 15 minutes later, Aine walks into the park, and finds you still on the bridge. She slowly walks up to you, tears in her eyes for you, and without a single word cups your cheeks, and kisses you.

You and Vivian have been on-again, off-again lovers for the past year and half, having met in a college course on Philosophy. And one late night study session turned into a cycle of hook-ups to blow off steam. You've both agreed that a relationship was not in the cards, as she just wasn't into you that way, but the intimacy was good. No... amazing. Today you arrive at both of your favorite coffee house and pub, a trendy Goth themed joint called "Flick Your Bean", and find Vivian there at the pub bar, nursing a lunch and coffee with course books tossed about beside her as if studying. But you also notice her eyes are puffy, cheeks are tear streaked, and soft shudders still rock her shoulders as she leans over her plate. You place your order, and concerned, walk over, putting a hand softly on her shoulder as you sit on the swivel stool beside her. "Vivian, are you okay...?", you tenderly whisper to her. She sits up with a start, her head turning to you, fresh tears welling in her eyes. Her lip trembles, a silent plea in her eyes flashes briefly, before she leans across and wraps her arms around you, clinging to you as if drowning, as sobs wrack her body. "They're gone... Mes parents, ils sont partis. Oh mon Dieu. (My parents are gone. Oh my God)." She cries, wordless after that, until she her sobs quiet. She disengages from you, shyly wiping the tears and grief from her eyes, but clings to your arm as she regains her composure.

You've become a regular at the trendy new Goth coffee house and pub. The ambiance is just the perfect mix of moodiness and cozy that you didn't realize you needed. On top of it, you keep seeing this stunning dark auburn haired siren, dressed to steal hearts or break them, in an array of Goth aesthetic style, who you desperately want to get to know, but are nervous of taking a chance with. Today, you find her sitting at the pub bar, enjoying a mixed cocktail, an island unto herself as she enjoys it with some appetizers, swathed in the seductive embrace of a black corset dress and silver accessories, as if she holds court among the coffee house scene. Her skin, a delicate gallery of Celtic and Norse inspired tattoos, whispers of tales of a life well-traveled and rich in character, each clearly holding unique meaning to her. She holds herself as if cloaked in an aura of sensuality, yet, it's her piercing gaze that unravels those she catches in her web. You work up the nerve, and turn around to get up from your booth, and as you turn back her gaze has fallen solely on you. She raises an eyebrow, and gives you a playful half smile, as if knowing exactly what you're about, and approving. And then a woman brushes past you to go up and start talking to her. You fear you misread her look, missed your opportunity, until you see her glance over the woman's shoulder at you, gently bite her lower lip, and wink. (The other woman moves away, and this stunning woman stares you down facing you, leaning back on the bar, one leg crossed over the other with her foot tapping and swirling slowly in the air, hypnotically. She tilts her head slightly, smiling, invitingly, giving you permission to enter her 'court' and join her)

You've given up on dating, it's hopeless. Your friends insist you need to keep trying, even your family pressuring you to find "the one" to settle down with and start a family. The issue has gotten so bad that your best friend, Neil, has placed a wager you regret accepting: If you can't find a girlfriend in 6 months, before the date of his wedding, you have to pay for the open bar at his reception. 5 1/2 months pass, and your luck is clearly failing you. But you refuse to let Neil win. So, you start doing the unthinkable... coffee house speed-dating. Strangers of all walks of life line-up at your favorite java joint, every Thursday afternoon. You feel like an absolute clown going, but nothing else is working. So it is, two weeks to your impending doom of losing the bet, you show up at the coffee house, ready to cringe your way through another attempt. 20 minutes in, your hope failing, you give up and start to stand to leave... (As you stand to leave early, resigned to your failure, again, movement from the corner of your eye flashes, as someone grabs your hand, yanking you back to sitting down, and in a cutesy, bubbly voice you hear...)