fandomtownies | The Park [Sunday, Morning]

It had been two years and a nose-job since those pictures were taken. She'd only been trying to pay her way through school! It wasn't her at all. The pictures that had ruined her, becoming an awful internet craze. Once people had started recognising her in the street, she just couldn't go on as she had. Running from her shame had been the only option.

She'd left, hidden herself away, and tried to pretend she was someone else. Her life as Ekaterina, internet porn star, felt so long go now and yet she couldn't put it behind her. Perhaps here, in yet another small town where no one knew her name, there could be peace. She finally found the courage to leave the dorms today, wrapped her scarf around her face despite the warmth and settled her large sunglasses on her nose. There. No one would ever know she was hiding from anything.

Was it possible she could finally get away from her past?

[[My life was eaten by kittens yesterday, oops. So open! And people are more than welcome to recognise her, ofc.]]

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Peter had plans today. Big plans. Enormous plans. But that didn't mean he couldn't work some small-time fun into his schedule!

He liked to think that the puppy whimpered as he kicked it, flying several feet across the pavement. (It flew because it wasn't a puppy; it was a plush toy rabbit. But nobody needed to know that.)

He almost missed the woman passing by in the process, but something... caught his eye. "Good morningz," he spoke, his accent strong and completely implausible.

Katenka shifted her scarf from her mouth oh so subtly, looking up at the stranger through her lashes. Was is possible, that she had been discovered so quickly? Why else, would someone approach her if not to drag her back into that life she'd fought so hard to escape?

"Good morning." For one with such a Russian name, this one on the other hand had no trace of accent. They were so difficult to maintain from week to week, episode to episode, after all. "Did you come to feed the ducks?" Casual conversation, perhaps would throw him off!

Yes, yes, her bearing was familiar. Her scarf - she had moved it. The skin behind it! Peter knew that skin.

"Did I?" he asked, vaguely. For he was a genius, an evil genius, and that was a very evil genius-y thing to ask.

"I can only assume," she said, offering a coy smile, "Do you not remember?" If she could only act normal. If he did know, or if he found out, would he still even want to speak to her?

"I certainly remember... zome zhings," Peter said. "Why do you hide yourzelf behind zuch garmentz? It iz zo very nice out."

"... The sun! It-- I burn easily," she claimed. An outrageous lie.

"Really?" Peter asked. He chewed ever-so-thoughtfully on his lip. "Because you do zeem to have a face... for the sun!"

Yes, he Remembered.

"Allergies! And I have allergies." Would he notice her sudden switch from an easily burning tanned girl to sufferer of extreme allergies? Such plot holes were so often ignored, after all...

"Allergiez?" Peter repeated, triumphantly. "Allergiez zo what? LATEX? RUBBER?"

He was a genius! Get with the program!

Edited 2011-09-11 17:04 (UTC)

"No!" she cried, with far more vehemence than necessary. "No, that's not-- It's not what you think!" It never was. It never was.

That didn't stop the tears from springing to her eyes.No man could disbelieve a weeping lady, could they?

Oh, he could! He had just kicked a puppy, hadn't you seen? "Oh, I zhink it iz," Peter said, gleefully. "But don't worry. Join me, and I zhall keep your zekrit... and get you zhe number of a better plastic zurgeon."

"Join you?" she sniffed. "Can't we just pretend this never happened? I'm a new woman. I want no part of that life now," she tried, desperately.

He'd kicked a puppy, of course not, but she was still naive enough to hope. Life had not sucked all the optimism from her yet.

"Join me," Peter agreed. "There shall not be... ILLICIT ACTIVITIES of that kind. Merely another. Come." He reached for her scarf. Evilly.

"What will you do..." she asked, pausing dramatically and clutching helplessly at her scarves, "if I say no?"

"Then I will tell the world," Peter said, pulling gently. Ever gently. "Come now, you don't want to be hiding forever, do you?"

Who knew where his accent had gone?

"No," Katenka whispered, pained, as fingers loosened their grip and her scarf fell away. "You can't, you can't tell anyone. I'll be ruined..." she pleaded, stepping closer. She was already ruined, her poor choices had made sure of that, but he was threatening to open her up to it all over again.

"What are you asking of me?" What could he want from her?

"Come wiv me to zhee wedding," Peter requested. "Sow confusion and distraction. Yoo would know how to do that. I have zheen it."

Yes, she could. It followed her wherever she went, however much she tried to avert it.

"And then you'll help me?" she asked, looking up at him with glistening eyes. Her make up was of course still perfect, and she looked beautiful despite her tears. Who would keep watching if she was to have red, swollen eyes?

"Of course," Peter lied. Like a lying thing. Because he was a puppy-kicker. "I would never lie to a beautiful woman."

A hesitant nod, and Katenka extended her hand. "I'll come," she promised. "I'll do anything. Just-- please, don't tell anyone."

She swallowed back a surge of overacted emotion. "I can't survive it again."

The Park [Sunday, Morning]

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