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The Cam Girl

by DinaParker69 11/06/16

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Prologue

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Mackenzie cursed under her breath. The rain had soaked her feet as well as the lower part of her stockings. She put away her flimsy umbrella and went to the ticket machine.

The station was very busy, as morning rush hour was upon her. Most people barely gave anyone or anything a second glance, as they went about their business. A group of school boys were the exception, failing to be even remotely subtle as they ogled her.

Dream on. Mackenzie thought, sighing. She knew why they were staring at her, but chose to ignore it as she did whenever it happened. Her clothes always did that.

Getting her ticket from the machine, Mackenzie stated to descend the steps that led to where the barriers were. She queued up behind a man wearing a suit. He was completely drenched from top to bottom, his curly hair dripping onto his suit jacket. Well, I could be worse off, then... Mackenzie reflected, suddenly thankful for her flimsy umbrella.

The soaked man passed the gates, as did Mackenzie shortly after. They were both headed for the same platform.

Mackenzie seated herself, waiting for the train to arrive. By the corner of her eye she could still see the school boys talking excitedly amongst themselves, even pointing at her, from across the tracks. Oh, for fuck's sake!

She turned her head away from the pathetic display. To her left were the stairs she'd come from. Quite a few people were still descending towards the platform, however what caught Mackenzie's eye was an old lay at the top of the stairs, with two heavy looking bags on either hand. She appeared to handle them well enough but she needed to help herself up with one hand, forcing her to try and lift the two bags with only one hand, which was proving to be impossible.

No one helped her.

Just as Mackenzie began to lift herself to go and assist her, the soaked man passed right in front of her. He went up the stairs and exchanged a few words with the old woman, who nodded gratefully. He turned himself around, grabbing both bags as he accompanied her pace down the stairs.

As he did so, Mackenzie got to look at him for the very first time. He was a tall young man with slightly tanned skin. His face looked as if it had been chiselled for hours, his jaw line well defined, his cheek bones protuberant. And as the old lady told him something during their descent, his face showed nothing but a permanent pleasant smile.

The train arrived. Mackenzie felt quite self-conscious as she followed the two people she'd been snooping on.

'You don't have to carry all of them, dear.' The old lady told him.

'It's nothing. Do you have someone to help you with taking this home?'

Despite his best efforts to hide it, he couldn't quite conceal that English wasn't his first language. Italian, she guessed. She sat down in one of the chairs of the carriage, keeping an eye on the two of them standing next to the door with the bags near their feet.

'My son is waiting for me at the station I'm getting off at, don't worry.' She assured him. 'Where in Italy are you from?'

'The accent?' He asked her, looking disappointed in himself for not hiding it better.

'The accent.'

'How do you know I'm not just a son of immigrants?' He asked, amused.

'Most people that are exaggerate their accent, they don't hide it. And no one from these parts helps out an old hag like me.'

He blushed before replying.

'I came from a small community near Naples.'

'Beautiful place, I went there on my honeymoon.'

They exchanged a few more pleasantries until the old lady left at her stop. The man leaned back against the subway's wall, running a hand through his moist hair. When he leaned, his white shirt tightened against his body, revealing a very broad and toned torso. Up close now, Mackenzie could see the sawdust like stubble, as well as the brown fading into green in his eyes.

Mackenzie found herself licking her lips.

She managed to stop doing so, but not from looking his way.

As the next stop was reached, the train slowed down, and the man looked back at her. Blushing, Mackenzie looked away quickly. She waited a moment before looking again. He hadn't looked away either, making her feel like a creep. He smiled, though. He flashed her with a dazzling sweet smile that seemed to suit his face. Mackenzie felt herself return the smile.

The doors opened and, still with a half-smile, the gorgeous figure turned, exiting the train. It started moving again and Mackenzie sighed, unsure of what that had been about.

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Part 1 of 4 | "All the other colours are just colours, but purple seems to have a soul – when you look at it, it's looking back at you." |

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Jarno ducked quickly beneath a building balcony, as the skies began to water again. "Goddamnit!" His watch showed him it was 7:30 PM. A few passers-by opened their umbrellas and continued their paths, not noticing or caring about his annoyance.

It had been a long, tiring day. Meetings and interviews had maintained him occupied throughout. All he wanted was a hot shower and a good night's sleep back at his hotel room. The downpour that had soaked him during the early hours of the morning did nothing to improve the outlook of a very boring day.

His clothes had dried, but the late afternoon rain was looking as though it wanted him wet again. Jarno wondered if it would be best to make a run for it or just attempt to wait it out until the rain went away.

'Today is just not your lucky day, is it?'

The voice came from underneath one of the umbrellas, whose carrier had stopped just in front of him. Jarno recognized her instantly. It was the girl from the subway. Of course he'd recognized her instantly. She was shorter than him, her eyes level with his shoulders. Her clothing choices were a bit bold, a low cut white vest covered by a blue shirt (which highlighted her large breasts), a patterned above-the-knee skirt, as well as some black stockings. It was odd, yet strangely alluring.

Her most noticeable feature, though, was the purple hair. It was a deep dark purple, reaching below her shoulders. And now that he was close to her, Jarno realised her eyes were dark blue and had only seemed purple due to the combination with her hair.

'It's still an ongoing experience...' Jarno replied, friendly.

'Well, you are getting wet again, here.' She said, failing to hide her amusement.

'Your concern is touching.'

She shrugged with a sideways smirk. God, she looked adorable!

'They don't call me a people person for nothing...'

'Who calls you a people person?'

'Uh, people.'

'But of course.' Jarno conceded with a mock bow.

Fidgeting with the umbrella between her fingers, she appeared to have decided to make him beg for it.

'Where are you heading to?' He asked her, conceding.

'Home.'

Jarno snorted, closing his eyes momentarily. When he reopened them, she was smiling innocently.

'People person, was it?'

'Yep.'

'Anyway, would you happen to be going anywhere near the Hilton?'

'Not really.' She replied, leaving him not knowing how to respond for a beat. 'But, uh, if you wanted to kill some time, I may help you with that.'

'What do you have in mind?'

'Want to go for a walk?'

Jarno thought about it for a few seconds. His desire for a bath and some sleep had been very quickly overshadowed by the desire to be around the force of cuteness and awkward humour that was this purple haired girl.

'I'd love to.'

He got underneath her umbrella, having to lower himself to her height so that they were both covered from the rain. He also placed his arm around her shoulders to balance himself. Well, he'd also wanted to do it to be close to her, but since that sounded a little creepy even to himself, he would pick the first reason if she asked. She didn't though, but smiled knowingly at him.

'Thanks for the lift.' He said, as they started to walk through the crowds of people. 'I'm Jarno.' He pronounced it as it was meant to be, "Yarno".

'Don't mention it. Nice to meet you, name's Mackenzie.'

'Mackenzie?' Jarno tested the name. As he suspected, the pronunciation wasn't too good and she laughed.

'Sorry, you probably hate having people do that...'

He did, but he felt there was very little Mackenzie could do to make him stop smirking at her.

'Don't worry about it.'

'You can just call me Mac, if you prefer.'

'I'll try to keep practicing Mackenzie.'

'So, where are you from?' She asked.

'Italy. And you?'

As soon as he had said it he felt like an idiot. Obviously from here, you idiot...

'It's not that obvious, actually.' Mackenzie laughed, understanding his mistake. 'I'm from Toronto.'

'Canada?'

'That's right. I've been living here for almost seven years.'

'Was it difficult moving here?' Jarno asked, interested. Her voice was soft and smooth, and he was enjoying listening to her speak about herself.

'At first. I came alone, so it was a bit lonely at the beginning, but I've made a few good friends.'

'Sounds like you enjoy living here...'

'I do. This is home for me now.' Mackenzie said, whilst guiding them across a zebra walkway, before looking at him. 'Do you have anywhere to be, or can I get you for myself for a while to grab a bite?'

He looked back into her eyes, feeling as if he would do anything to be around her for as long as he could.

'Not really. I'm yours for the next couple of hours.'

Mackenzie seemed amused by something.

'This way.' She said in a slightly raspy voice.

Leading the way, Mackenzie guided Jarno through the streets, edging away from the main street they were on to more secondary ones, through a path she seemed familiar with. It wasn't too long of a walk, despite being forced to wobble together slowly under the umbrella.

'Over there.' Mackenzie pointed towards a small corner diner. It was a cosy little place that reminded him of something off a stereotypical American movie. "Mike's Diner" was what the sign above it flashed, as the night descended on them.

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