First Line Prompt: Random First Line Generator

As per my posting goals for 2018 I’m going to be getting back into writing. I used to write frequently as a teenager and young adult (like actual young adult, 18-22 range), I really enjoyed it and it was a good coping strategy for my depressive episodes. Outside a binge-writing experience about two years back that totaled some 10,000 words in a day I’m seriously out of shape when it comes to writing. To build up my writing skills again I’ll be doing exercises that interest me and I’ll always provide links.

Today’s exercise come courtesy of WritingExercises.co.uk.

It started with a chance meeting on a film-set. It might not have mattered really, except that he’d smiled at her specifically. Told her how nice she was and how gentle her hands were as she styled his hair. He wasn’t her type really, celebrities were always a poor choice even though he wasn’t that well known yet. And she knew it was a yet. But he’d noticed her; noticed when she worked so hard not to be noticed. She wasn’t slovenly, wasn’t ugly; she wouldn’t last as a stylist if she couldn’t keep up her own appearance, of course. She was just stylish enough, a carefully curated amalgam of current trends on an average face that made her completely indistinct.

And he’d noticed her.

Like she’d noticed his smile, actually, not artfully, lopsided with crooked, mottled teeth that would soon be a perfect line of veneers. The streaks of gray in his hair that would be covered by perfectly matched dye. His warm brown eyes that betrayed his nervousness when he asked her to dinner after the shoot would grow cold as he was given more love than a person was really meant to have.

Later she combed fingers through his gray streaked hair until if fell perfectly against his brow, remembering his shy, but sincere conversation over dinner. She’d miss that she realized, catching a lock of hair before it could fall out of place, but some sacrifices were worth it. She paused, tilting her head as she reached up and carefully adjusted his jaw, the wiring she’d run through it bending under her gentle pressure until the smile was perfect.

She stepped back to admire her work. A warm flush seemed to cling to his skin, a clever application of blush. His posture relaxed like he would step off the dais at any moment, the braces holding him up carefully hidden under his clothes. With warm, brown eyes and his lopsided smile, he would be perfect forever now.

It was the least she could do. After all, he had noticed her.

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