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{The Bitch and The Bastard.} 1x1

By Mr-X
Backup thread

How much would you sell your soul for?

Your character was a rising star on the path to fame. Their entie childhood prepared them for the climax where they would stand atop of an empire bult by years and years of hard work and sacrifice. This was the moment you'd been preparing for until everything came crashing due to one unfortante thing. Death. 

Reeling from the lost of your mother, the pressures of the glitz and the glamour became to much to handle and you slowly began to retreat into you're shell unto you came across Him. 


How much would you sell your love for?

My character lurks within the underground world of Fame. Drugs, Murder, and carnal desires, whenever someone has nefarious intent they come to Him. Nicknamed the “Lucifer of Hollywood" his deals never come cheaply and once the deal is made you're forever condemned to work to his satisfied with the debt paid off to him.

Coming down from another nightly high, the predator finds you within his guilded bird cage. Curiousity strikes him and without warning he prances over to you.. Offering you one chance to change you're life forever.


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Mr-XLucas Soraino   90d ago

Lucas Soraino

“My God is white and he’s in my pocket.”

Cocaine. That was the only pure thing the male could stand as the razor blade chopped the fine powder into lines. Rolling the crisp Benjamin tightly he placed one nostril to the top and sniffed. At first it burned. It was like someone had pour liquid fire down his nostrils but the high which came afterwards was unlike any other. It shook him to his core and brought on shivers that delighted him. Leaning back against the leather couch he is eyes focused on the song which was blaring through the speakers of the studio which was dimly lit. The sound was a dark and melancholy R&B song about two of his favorite subjects, drugs and partying. 

As the chorus began to ring out he nodded his head as he heard the chorus begin to again. “Ask me if I do this everyday I say often, ask her how many times she rode the wave not to often. But girls be down to rock it either way, Often. Baby I can make that cash rain often.” Shaking his head, the male stood up and headed towards the producer seat. Leaning forward he softly talked into the mic. The chorus wasn’t raunchy enough for him. It reeked of censorship and someone not trying to offend. Lucas Soranio didn’t play it safe. The only thing which attracted him was that rawness, that guttural, almost primal instinct that animals had in this dog eat dog world. 

“I’m not pissing out thousands of dollars to produce your album for you to play this shit safely. I know you want to make it more raw, more… carnal. The beauty of modern day media is that we can always post the raunchy stuff on social media and watch it blow up that way. This shit is going on Youtube so give me that dark and gritty or get the fuck out.”

Eight years later and five hundred million views later the song was one of the many songs that catapulted the artist into fame. And from the Royalties that he got paid from the song; the businessman was making tens of thousands on a monthly basis on a passive income. That, that was the “legal” way he made his money. By collecting royalty checks from co-signing and helping producing music for others who were hungry for fame and wealth. The other way were the clubs and the drugs which he peddled along with other needs which those who had perverse needs that needed to be satisfied.  

Sitting in the car outside of the hotel the male was staring ahead. Beside him was a nervous young girl whose hands were twisting strands of stray hair around her fingers. Her dress was silver and jewels hung around her neck and in her ears. A forgotten child actress she’d grown up in the limelight only to be crushed by the weight of the world. Now, a year pass being a legal adult, she found herself in a business that paid well but left a bitter aftertaste. The hotel which they were sitting outside of was a luxury one; one where a single room was the size of a modern apartment and cost nearly two to three grand to just spend one night in. 

Leaning backwards he looked at the young actress and he spoke softly. Let me make this clear to you. You don’t have to do this. But you need money. You need to pay rent. And five thousand for just laying on your back? A small price to pay. Go in there; get your money girl, and I’ll pick you up tomorrow”

His words came out silky smooth and as the girl nodded her head she left the car and Lucas drove off leaving her to the wolves. His business was elsewhere tonight. Afterall, this world was filled with fallen angels. Being nick-named after the most famous one Soranio had a pension for sniffing them out and wanting to bring them closer and closer within the world he promised them. As he headed towards the night club he’d own he turned on radio to the latest gossip piece. 

It’s been a year since the tragic lost of the mother of an up and coming pop star. And even though her record company has promised that she’ll be releasing new music soon.. It seems that we’re all waiting. Will she ever rise to fame again.

The world wait is waiting with bated breath to see if its true and if the phoenix can rise from the ashes.

Fuck yea. Fuck yes she can.

And Lucas Soranio would be the one to stoke the flames to see that pretty bitch soar again. 

: Mila Valentine :

“Without us, you wouldn’t have been anything. Dead. In a ditch, with some asshole taking advantage of you. Trust me, I’m the only one you can depend on. Now that he’s gone.” 

And that required money. Lots of it. She had long given up trying to keep track of it, especially when her father was alive. They knew where to push her, hussle her. Knew exactly which faces to see and which faces to please and rarely was anything off the table even when she was a child. 

The one thing her mother did value was purity. She wanted Mila to be desired as some rare creature in Hollywood that record label CEOs could sell and market. An ‘inspiration for the youth’ who started from nothing and grew to have high moral standards, passion for external beauty and, of course, very reasonable to compromise with. No one liked a feminist not that she had to worry about talking to any of the important fucks anyway. Her mother was the manager, that was her job. But now... it had been a year. 

The young twenty-three year old stared into the mirror, gliding the ruby red lipstick across the sanctity of her lips. Already a little buzzed from a 60 proof drink, she wondered about her new idiot manager Phillip who was probably already signing agreements with daytime talk show hosts and magazine editors for what he called her ‘revival’ promotion. “You need to get back in headlines so when your new album drops, you’ll have fans excited and ready to purchase.” 

But what the fuck was she supposed to talk about let alone sing about? Everything was spiraling out of control and Mila didn’t know what the hell she was doing. Between camera flashes and designer clothes, she knew how to pretend to look the part. Sure, she could put on a smile, pose in a way that accentuated her chest but the offers that were being made to her manager were often not music related... and he wanted to take them before her brand became worthless. 

Purity. Mila scoffed at the notion, standing to admire her figure in a dress with a V cut neck and sheer fabric that hugged the sides of her body while barely concealing the parts that mattered. The depression had clouded her mind for a few months now, occasionally mixing with alcohol when she was allowed to drink to keep from negatively affecting her image. Fuck it all. It was the anniversary of her mother’s passing and with the dark, overwhelming thoughts of countless nights, she wanted to dance on her grave.

Mila Valentine hailed her driver, directing him to go to a nightclub where hopefully she wouldn’t be instantly recognised by a fan. Any place fitting that description only consisted of the rich and there were always sharks. Mila couldn’t bring herself to care, hoping in the effort to get drunk and lose herself in the atmosphere, she might find something interesting to keep her going another day.

The sidewalk was drenched in smoke and so was the inside of the club once she passed the bouncer. Mila took a deep breath, feeling that she could possibly get a small high just by inhaling the after smoke of others. She pushed through to the bar, leaning against the marble as she ordered a single shot, letting her head bounce to the beat of an R&B song. 

Mr-XLucas Soraino   89d ago

Lucas Soraino

I left my girl back home
I don’t love her no more
And she’ll never fuckin’ not that.
These fucking eyes that I’m staring at.

As the slow, raunchy song blared through the speakers the devil sat upon his perch. Those hazelnut eyes were slowly scanning the writhing bodies to find out that true idol whom had arrested his attention. Her very first single were a beautiful melody to his ears. A pure little girl being protected in this sinful world. Now that the love of a mother was gone, he wondered how deep she would fall into the world of darkness. Rising up from the couch he started to head towards the bar. Even though he had a private section the girls that were dancing around him were nothing of interest to him. Afterall, he’d already worked his way inside them in more ways than one. No, he needed another girl to warm his bed tonight. A virgin in every true sense of the word. 

Hands grabbed at him as he walked through his bar, many knew whom he was and of his connections. As lips whispered against his ears, hands reached out to shake his hand and clasped them. He was, indeed, the closest thing a human could get to watching the devil walk around. Behind those sunglasses he smiled as he spotted that beautiful girl who was alone at the bar. Finally, a fresh face. 

Mila Valentine was the name of the fallen idol who shone so raidently through the depressive aura that she exuded. However, Lucas had only seen her on the T.V. and on the internet watching her videos. Cozying up beside her, he tapped his hands upon the bar and he looked at the male. Looking at the bartender he nodded his head and watched as the male reached for the top shelf liquor. Even though this was his club, the male never spent less than six hundred on alcohol. He always drunk the best bottles because anything else tasted foul to him. Staring down now at two shots of liquor his eyes turned towards that beauty. 

Bring the cups baby I can bring the drink;
Bring your body baby I can bring you fame…
And that’s my motherfucker word to you
Just let me motherfucking love you..

As the dark R&B song headed into its chorus the male placed the shot right beside the drink which the female had brought. “It’s top shelf. You deserve to drink the best… In memory of a lost loved one. Please, let me share in your sadness.” As those words came out softly he pulled down his glasses to reveal melancholy eyes. Eyes that seemed to be hiding a depth to them. As the music swayed to his second chorus he raised the glass and clinked it against hers before dropping it down and taking one to the head. 

Pulling out his wallet he pulled out a black card. It was proof that he was apart of an exclusive club of wealthy patrons that most people could only dream of. Owning several clubs that each broke around twenty-five to fifty-thousand a night in liquor sells and door entrances he was easily on his way to be considered wealthy. “Tonight all your drinks are on me. Lucas Soraino. Just don’t lose my black card baby girl.” 

: Mila Valentine :

The small glass was set against the bar counter, Mila noticing as heads turned, taking hers with them. She watched as a man approached, a deity by the way hands reached out and eyes stared in awe of him. Sunglasses obscured his gaze and a smile brushed his features in a way that sent a shiver down her spine, devilish. 

This devil slid in beside her and tapped the bar as if he owned the place. The brunette wasn’t familiar with the face but there was a draw to him that made her curious... as he seemed to be with her. Of course she would be recognised. 

The bartender took the order, pulling down a bottle from the top shelf to pour new glasses for her and the powerful stranger. The small shot was pushed closer to her other untouched drink, supposedly in memory of her mother. Mila couldn’t help to be touched even though she couldn’t return the same sentiment. True, she missed the ease and predictability of her life. Sadness, sure. 

Manicured fingers wrapped around the new glass, clinking them with the stranger before throwing it back like she’d seen done before. She expected it to burn like other liquors but was pleasantly surprised at how smooth it was. How the poison was easy to consume. 

The woman blinked as the devil pulled out a black card, large doe eyes watching as it was handed to the bartender promising coverage for a full night of indulgent behaviors. Lucas Soraino. Mila had heard of that name but only from her mother’s tongue and in brief conversations. He was elite in every sense of the word and she could see it now. “Thank you,” she said, watching him take his leave in awe at the luck that graced her. 

Curiously, Mila watched him navigate back to his private room, a secluded throne hidden by bodies more alluring than hers. She let the handsome bartender make the decisions on what her ruby lips consumed, the music vibrating her body and the alcohol swirling her mind in blurs of color and sound. Her skin was hot, a fire burning for touch that even the men she danced with couldn’t smudge. She thought about him and her drunk curiosity had her approaching the private space she saw him disappear in. 

Clearly Mila had lost her inhibitions as she leaned her tipsy frame against the blocked entryway. “Lucus,” she said, holding up whatever liquor glass the bartender had given her this time. “I wanna see Lucus.” 

Mr-XLucas Soraino   81d ago

Lucas Soraino

In the end, there really was nothing Daddy had to do to persuade her. All He had to do was leave her to her own device's, ensure enough the fallen angel would come to him. T The pulsation of the music continue to fill the club. As the liquor flowed, in the bodies on the dance floor continued to grind against one another, the man felt as if he was in paradise. Hazel nuts eyes scan the periphery of the scenery. As he continued to take in the palace he built for himself. Without a doubt this was a palace full of sin and each and every single denizen knew full well that there was no salvation in this place. 

Lucas inhale smoke from his blunt as he stood up in his vip section.  A fresh body of champagne had been brought to his section and it was time for him to pour up a glass for everyone. Everyone here was getting a glass and as the liquor floor he celebrated his own depravity. Taking one step towards the personal security guards that were station at the base of his VIP section he yelled into their ears. "I'm expecting a pretty angel to join us before the nights end. When she ask for me by name let her in alright?" 

Moving back towards his throne amidst the horde of drunken beauties and wealthy men he laughed as he leaned back. The slow dancing R&B had turned into a fast hip hop song that had inspired the women to dance in a rather provocative way. The gyrating of the hips and the raunchiness of it all excited Lucas and soon he was behind a woman. Hands were placed on her hips as their bodies grinded against one another. This was an almost weekly experience and as he continued to dance with the woman he soon spotted movement from afar. From deviant pervert to a seductive business man the change was as far apart as night and day. Hands smack the curvaceous buttocks of the woman previous his dancing partner and he head towards the security with whom he'd once spoke to.

Her words caught his ear briefly and as he extended a hand out towards the drunken beauty his eyes were filled with a foreign emotion. It wasn't lust or anything of the sort. Extending his hands towards her he spoke softly in a voice that filled her ears. "I'm here for you baby girl." 

Coaxing her into his own section he stood with her in the midst of the bodies looking inquisitive at her. Whispers started to flutter from one end to another. She'd had looked familiar but how and from where was hard to tell in the dimly lit section of the club. Not all places were brightly lit and able to truly portray the proper features of the woman. But the closer she got to the light which illuminate from the VIP section the clearly it was that she was someone of significance and great importance to Lucifer himself.


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