pretty boys die first.

[the boulevard]

<center>Edward Spencer Applegate
Male. Employed by a higher (or lower, if you want to look at it that way) power.

Opposite of: Quiet, shy, pleasant, friendly.
Similar to: Irritable, poison, opinionated, perverse.


"Eddie, why don't you come out with us tonight?"
"I've told you countless times, Slyvia. It's Mr. Applegate."



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[the boulevard]

Edward stared at the back of the blond woman's head for so long and so hard that he hoped it would spontaneously combust at any given second. She was a high class bitch, he knew by the way she wore her Gucci sunglasses even though the sun was well buried behind the clouds. Her name was Marie, at least he thought that was what she'd said to the man who'd interviewed her at her last modeling agency. If there was nothing else good to say about her, at least she had long, tan legs all the way to her neck. He would have fucked her sideways if it weren't for the job he had to do.

"Oh darling!" The blond one with the legs squealed from across the street at a brown haired one with tits like melons, only more perfect. "How ARE you!"

The world was supposed to stop for these girls, that's what they thought. Nobody had ever neglected to notice Marie before. It was true right up until the end too, when a taxicab driver plowed her over and her perfect blond hair splattered gorgeously across Fifth Avenue in a few bloody pieces of scalp and teeth.

"Way to go, asshole. What did she do to deserve that?" Gabriella always had her hand on her hip, was always justifying her own actions and condemning his.

"She looked at me funny."

"Edward, you're impossible." Huffing, arms crossed over her chest (Edward might have noticed her tits if he hadn't hated her so fucking much), she assumed the martyr stance.

It was going to be a long day, he could already tell. Halfway in and she was on his last nerve. But what're you supposed to expect between an angel and a devil, stuck together on this miserable fucking plain?

[the boulevard]

"I always thought there was something about you, Edward, something different... something alluring. Something just so -- oh, I don't even know what I'm saying. Or trying to say. Or whatever I mean." His secretary was flushing a shade of red so deep he was sure that her head would explode at any given second.

That would have made a great scene in a horror flick, wouldn't it?

"You oughtn't to, it isn't becoming." Edward Applegate wasn't looking at the plump woman with one brown sock and one white standing across from him, he was focused on the numbers that were strewn across his desk. They didn't add up, they couldn't be right.

"Er... what?" He could never remember her name. She was one of the many secretaries that pranced through his office every couple of months. For some reason, he just couldn't find good help anymore.

"To think, that is. It isn't becoming -- and so, Marjorie is it?--" Thank goodness for nametags. "You may call me Mister Applegate and you may fetch me a cup of coffee and Gabriella. She'll just adore this new script I've come up with."

Gabriella didn't like death or violence or gore and Edward had made his entire living on it. He was in the horror movie industry, he knew the ropes of special effects and everything he directed turned to gold -- and in the sense of gore, things didn't turn to gold very often. But he was new. He was fresh. He was original.

Black-hearted, malevolent and impossible were more the words Gabriella, the self-induced martyr, the wanna-be angel would use. But she was fucking nuts anyway -- it was too bad she happened to be the producer.

[the boulevard]

[ AND P.S! Anybody want to play Gabriella? ]