La desventaja de ser bonita
Jul 11, 2024 23:20:11 GMT -5
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Post by yourpapihanaricarnes on Jul 11, 2024 23:20:11 GMT -5
Amberleigh was was the quintessential "Fortunate One." Tall, blonde, and stunningly beautiful, she exuded an air of confidence that was almost palpable. Her beauty was her currency, and she had spent it lavishly, surrounding herself with a group of powerful friends who catered to her every whim. In her world, her looks were enough to command attention and respect, and she reveled in the illusion of her importance.
Key word: Illusion. But more on that later.
Key word: Illusion. But more on that later.
Her circle consisted of influential men: CEOs, athletes, and heirs to vast fortunes. Amberleigh believed herself to be an equal among them, a perception bolstered by their fawning attentions. She saw herself as a queen, and they, her loyal subjects. What she failed to recognize, however, was the superficiality of their interest. They weren't captivated by her intellect or personality; they were entranced by her physical allure, each one secretly hoping to win her favor.
Amberleigh's delusions of grandeur were further fueled by her own arrogance. She spoke down to others, dismissing those she deemed beneath her. To her, anyone who wasn't part of her exclusive circle was irrelevant. She would often boast about her "Fortunate One" status, attributing it to some inherent quality rather than the shallow and fleeting nature of her attractiveness.
One sunny afternoon, the group decided to go on a hiking trip to a secluded mountain range. It was meant to be a bonding experience, a break from their usual glamorous gatherings. Despite her initial reluctance, Amberleigh agreed to join, eager to maintain her position within the group.
As they set out on the trail, it quickly became evident that Amberleigh was out of her element. She struggled to keep up, her designer sneakers ill-suited for the rugged terrain. The men, initially amused by her ineptitude, offered her a helping hand. But their patience wore thin as Amberleigh’s complaints grew more incessant.
“Ugh, why is this so difficult?” she whined. “I thought this was supposed to be fun!”
“You just need to keep moving, ,” said JoeNah, a wealthy tech entrepreneur. “We’ll take a break soon.”
Amberleigh rolled her eyes, annoyed by his condescension. She prided herself on being pampered, not exerting herself in such a manner. But the truth was, she had no choice but to push on if she wanted to remain part of the group.
The trail became steeper, and Amberleigh’s pace slowed further. The group began to distance themselves from her, their patience wearing thin. They were no longer interested in babysitting her; their focus shifted to enjoying the hike.
Hours passed, and the group reached a clearing with a breathtaking view. They decided to take a break, setting down their packs and relaxing. Amberleigh, lagging behind, finally stumbled into the clearing, panting and exhausted.
“Finally! I thought I’d never catch up,” she gasped, collapsing onto a rock.
The men exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of irritation and indifference. Amberleigh’s constant need for attention had become a burden, and their interest in her was waning. She was no longer the alluring center of their universe; she was a liability.
“I need some water,” Emily demanded, holding out her hand.
“There’s a stream over there,” said Rocky, a professional athlete, pointing to a nearby brook. “You can fill up your bottle.”
Amberleigh scowled, expecting someone to do it for her. But no one moved. Frustrated, she stomped over to the stream, muttering under her breath. As she knelt to fill her bottle, she slipped on a moss-covered rock and tumbled into the water.
A chorus of laughter erupted from the group, and Amberleigh's face flushed with embarrassment. She scrambled out of the stream, drenched and humiliated. The men’s laughter stung, a stark reminder of how little they truly cared for her.
“Very funny,” she snapped, trying to regain her composure. “Can we go now?”
The group begrudgingly resumed their hike, but the atmosphere had shifted. Amberleigh’s facade of superiority had cracked, and the men’s respect for her had diminished. She was no longer the coveted “Fortunate One”; she was just a wet, angry girl struggling to keep up.
As the day wore on, the trail became more treacherous. The group reached a particularly challenging section, a narrow ledge that skirted a steep cliff. One by one, they navigated the ledge with care. Amberleigh, however, was paralyzed by fear.
“I can’t do this,” she whimpered, her eyes wide with terror.
“You don’t have a choice,” said JoeNAH, the group’s leader and a seasoned hiker. “Just follow our lead and don’t look down.”
Amberleigh’s legs trembled as she stepped onto the ledge. Her hands clung to the rock face, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps. Halfway across, she froze, unable to move.
“Come on, Amberleigh, you’re holding us up,” JoeNAH called back, his tone impatient.
“I can’t,” she cried, her voice cracking.
“Just keep going,” Rocky urged. “You’re almost there.”
But Amberleigh’s fear paralyzed her. She stood rooted to the spot, her mind racing. The group, now on the other side, watched in exasperation. Their patience had run out, and they were no longer willing to coddle her.
“We don’t have time for this,” CHRIStian muttered. “She’s on her own.”
With that, the group turned and continued up the trail, leaving Amberleigh behind. Panic set in as she watched them disappear from view. She had always relied on her looks to get by, but now, in this moment of true vulnerability, her beauty was useless.
Hours passed, and the sun began to set. Amberleigh was still stranded on the ledge, her body numb with fear and exhaustion. She felt utterly alone, abandoned by the very people she had believed were her friends.
As night fell, the temperature dropped, and Amberleigh shivered in her wet clothes. Her mind raced with regret and self-recrimination. She had always believed herself to be untouchable, but now she realized how fragile her position had been. She had taken her friends for granted, assuming they would always be there to support her. But in her moment of need, they had vanished, revealing the shallow nature of their connection.
Desperation gave way to determination. Amberleigh knew she couldn’t stay on the ledge all night. Summoning every ounce of courage, she began to inch her way along the narrow path. Her progress was slow, but she forced herself to keep moving, driven by the primal instinct to survive.
When she finally reached the other side, she collapsed in relief. But her ordeal was far from over. She was alone in the wilderness, with no idea how to find her way back. She had always relied on others to guide her, but now she had to rely on herself.
Amberleigh spent the night huddled under a tree, shivering and scared. The sounds of the forest surrounded her, a constant reminder of her isolation. She had never felt so vulnerable, so insignificant. Her thoughts drifted to the people she had dismissed and belittled, those who had endured hardship without the safety net of wealth and privilege. For the first time, she understood their struggles, their resilience.
THEY WERE SOMETHING SHE NEVER WAS
Morning brought a new sense of resolve. Amberleigh knew she had to find her way back, not just physically but metaphorically. She needed to rediscover herself, to strip away the layers of arrogance and entitlement that had defined her.
A feat that was truly impossible.
She began to walk, using the sun as her guide. The journey was arduous, each step a reminder of her weakness. But with every mile, she grew stronger, her spirit fortified by the realization that she was capable of more than she had ever believed.
Or so she thought.
Days turned into a week, and Amberleigh's body and mind were pushed to their limits. Her once perfect nails were broken and dirty, her once shiny hair matted and greasy. The physical toll was enormous, but the emotional toll was even greater. Hunger gnawed at her insides, and every step was a battle against exhaustion.
One fateful afternoon, as she wandered through a dense forest, Amberleigh stumbled upon a small, desolate cabin. With her last reserves of strength, she approached the door and collapsed, unconscious.
When Amberleigh didn't return to her city after the hiking trip, no one in her circle of friends seemed overly concerned. They assumed she had found another crowd to impress, another group to dazzle with her looks and charm. It wasn't until a local search party, alerted by a concerned store owner who had seen a disoriented young woman pass through days earlier, found her lifeless body near the cabin that anyone realized the gravity of the situation.
The official report stated that Amberleigh had succumbed to exposure and dehydration. Alone and without the survival skills or inner resilience to save herself, she had perished in the wilderness. The very qualities that had once made her the center of attention—her beauty, her arrogance—had ultimately led to her downfall.
Her so-called friends, upon hearing the news, expressed shallow condolences, but their lives quickly moved on. In the end, Amberleigh was a reminder of the fleeting nature of superficial relationships and the harsh reality of overestimating one's own importance.
Her death became a sobering lesson for those who had known her. The "Fortunate One" who had always been able to rely on her looks and charm was, in the end, nothing without genuine friends or real survival skills. The very attributes she had used to elevate herself were not enough to save her when she needed help the most.
Hanari Carnes stood on the balcony of his lavish Miami home, the city lights shimmering behind him. The night was warm, a gentle breeze rustling the palm trees that lined his property. Dressed in a sharp white suit, Hanari looked every bit the successful, self-made man he was. He leaned on the railing, his eyes fierce with determination as he shouted down to the tourists, locals, and everyone walking by who would listen.
"Listen up, everyone! Chu all saw what happen! Si! Chu all saw how she win! Pequeño vagabundo sucio! It not because she better than me. No, no, no. She win because of them. She win because she got her little friends helpin' her. She nothin' without them. She just a puppet, a face with no real power. She think she Una campeona? Ha! The only reason she got that belt is because of THEM. They interfere. They save her when she was about to tap out. I had her, mang. I had her in that ring, seconds away from submitting. Chu all saw it. She was hecho! Terminada! And then, they come in, they ruin it all."
He shook his head, the frustration palpable in his voice. "She don’t deserve that title. She don’t deserve to be called a champion. She just a fraud, a fake. She make a name off being affiliated with them, not because she got any real talent. Without them, she nothing. She just a pretty face with no real skill."
Hanari stepped back from the railing, his face a mask of controlled anger. "But let me tell chu someting, chica. Chor time, es a comin'. Chu can't hide behind them forever. Sooner or later, chu gonna be in that ring with me again, and dis time, there ain't gonna be nobody to save you. No amigos, no interference, jus' chu and me. Tú y yo. And when that happen, chu gonna see what it really mean to be una campeona. Chu gonna see the difference between chu and me."
He spread his arms wide, encompassing the city behind him. "I build dis. I earn everything I got. No help, no shortcut, jus' hard work and determination. That’s what a campeón is. That’s what a real winner look like. And soon, everybody gonna see that chu just a paper campeón. Chu just a girl playin’ dress-up with a title that don’t belong to you."
Hanari leaned back against the railing, his expression softening slightly as a smirk played on his lips. "So enjoy chor little moment in da sun, chica. Enjoy chor time in the spotlight. Because soon, it all gonna come crashin' down. And when it does, I gonna be there to pick up the pieces and show the world what a true campeón look like."
He pushed away from the railing, turning to walk back into his home, but not before throwing one last glance over his shoulder at the city he would be returning home to as champion. "Remember dis face. Remember dis name. Mi nombre es Hanari Carnes. El VERDADERO campeón."
Hanari Carnes walked back inside his sprawling Miami home, the warm glow of the city lights casting a golden hue through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The spacious living room, adorned with modern art and luxurious furnishings, was the epitome of opulence. On a large white leather couch, three beautiful women who could easily be mistaken for supermodels awaited him. Their eyes sparkled with admiration as they watched him stride in with the confidence of a man who knew his worth.
Hanari moved to a sleek glass bar, picking up a bottle of Don Julio 1942. He poured a generous shot, the amber liquid glistening in the dim light. With a satisfied smile, he picked up a Cuban cigar from a polished wooden humidor, clipping the end with precision before lighting it with a gold lighter. The rich aroma of the cigar filled the room, mingling with the soft scent of high-end perfume.
As he approached the couch, one of the women, a stunning brunette with piercing blue eyes, smiled at him. "You were amazing out there, Hanari," she purred, her voice low and sultry.
Hanari returned her smile, his dark eyes gleaming with pride. He settled into the couch, exuding an air of relaxed authority. The women instinctively shifted closer, drawn to his magnetic presence. Taking a slow sip of the tequila, he let the smooth warmth spread through him, savoring the moment.
With a press of a button on a sleek remote, the giant 100-inch TV mounted on the wall sprang to life. The screen displayed highlights of his recent matches, a montage of his most electrifying moments in the ring. The women watched in awe, their admiration for him only growing as they saw his prowess and skill.
Hanari leaned back, draping an arm over the back of the couch, the cigar in his hand trailing a thin line of smoke upward. "We will see how tough she es without her friend, chyea?," he said, his voice resonating with confidence. "She think she es a big deal when she no realize....she is replaceable."
The women nodded in agreement, their eyes never leaving his face. Hanari was a man on a mission, and they knew that nothing could stop him from claiming what he believed was rightfully his. As he took another sip of tequila, a satisfied smile played on his lips. He was ready for whatever challenges lay ahead, confident in his abilities and surrounded by those who admired him for who he was.
He was truly fortunate.
Hanari took another sip of his Don Julio 1942, letting the smooth tequila calm the fire within him as he leaned back against the plush white leather couch. He exhaled a thick plume of cigar smoke, his eyes narrowing as he contemplated the words he was about to unleash. The three beautiful women beside him watched in silence, sensing the intensity in the air.
He set the cigar down in an ashtray and leaned forward, his gaze piercing through the camera. “Amber, chica, chu think chu es somethin' special? Chu think bein' part of the Fortunate Ones makes ya untouchable? Lemme tell ya somethin'—chu es nothin' but expendable. How many members have they had now? Huh? They a revolving door of mediocrity, masked by Joe's ego. At the end of the day, nobody in Joe's little cult matters but JOE.”
Hanari’s tone dripped with disdain as he continued. “Mami, chu es just another pretty face that came and went. When chu lose that title—and trust me, chu es gonna lose it—chu gonna be just another name on a long list of failures. Chu think they gonna care about Amber when you ain't got that belt? No. Chu es just a tool for them, and once you no longer useful, you es out. They gonna find someone else to fill your spot, just like they always do.”
He leaned back again, his expression a mix of confidence and contempt. “Chu know what happens Monday Night? Chu step into that ring with me, and chu gonna tap out. Chu gonna realize how alone ya truly are when ya got nobody to save ya. Chu think they gonna be dere for you? Pssht. Think again mamacita. When chu tap out to Hanari Carnes, the real campeón, chu gonna see the truth. Chu es just a puppet, and chor strings about to get cut.”
The women beside him exchanged knowing glances, their admiration for Hanari only growing as he spoke with unwavering conviction.
“Remember this, puta. When chu on that mat, gasping for breath, tapping out with nobody to save chor stupid ass, chu es gonna know you just another face that came and went. How alone chu truly es. And me? I’ll still be here, the true campeón.”
Viva La Dominicana
Viva la Hanari Carnes
Viva la.......
“I can’t do this,” she whimpered, her eyes wide with terror.
“You don’t have a choice,” said JoeNAH, the group’s leader and a seasoned hiker. “Just follow our lead and don’t look down.”
Amberleigh’s legs trembled as she stepped onto the ledge. Her hands clung to the rock face, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps. Halfway across, she froze, unable to move.
“Come on, Amberleigh, you’re holding us up,” JoeNAH called back, his tone impatient.
“I can’t,” she cried, her voice cracking.
“Just keep going,” Rocky urged. “You’re almost there.”
But Amberleigh’s fear paralyzed her. She stood rooted to the spot, her mind racing. The group, now on the other side, watched in exasperation. Their patience had run out, and they were no longer willing to coddle her.
“We don’t have time for this,” CHRIStian muttered. “She’s on her own.”
With that, the group turned and continued up the trail, leaving Amberleigh behind. Panic set in as she watched them disappear from view. She had always relied on her looks to get by, but now, in this moment of true vulnerability, her beauty was useless.
Hours passed, and the sun began to set. Amberleigh was still stranded on the ledge, her body numb with fear and exhaustion. She felt utterly alone, abandoned by the very people she had believed were her friends.
As night fell, the temperature dropped, and Amberleigh shivered in her wet clothes. Her mind raced with regret and self-recrimination. She had always believed herself to be untouchable, but now she realized how fragile her position had been. She had taken her friends for granted, assuming they would always be there to support her. But in her moment of need, they had vanished, revealing the shallow nature of their connection.
Desperation gave way to determination. Amberleigh knew she couldn’t stay on the ledge all night. Summoning every ounce of courage, she began to inch her way along the narrow path. Her progress was slow, but she forced herself to keep moving, driven by the primal instinct to survive.
When she finally reached the other side, she collapsed in relief. But her ordeal was far from over. She was alone in the wilderness, with no idea how to find her way back. She had always relied on others to guide her, but now she had to rely on herself.
Amberleigh spent the night huddled under a tree, shivering and scared. The sounds of the forest surrounded her, a constant reminder of her isolation. She had never felt so vulnerable, so insignificant. Her thoughts drifted to the people she had dismissed and belittled, those who had endured hardship without the safety net of wealth and privilege. For the first time, she understood their struggles, their resilience.
THEY WERE SOMETHING SHE NEVER WAS
Morning brought a new sense of resolve. Amberleigh knew she had to find her way back, not just physically but metaphorically. She needed to rediscover herself, to strip away the layers of arrogance and entitlement that had defined her.
A feat that was truly impossible.
She began to walk, using the sun as her guide. The journey was arduous, each step a reminder of her weakness. But with every mile, she grew stronger, her spirit fortified by the realization that she was capable of more than she had ever believed.
Or so she thought.
Days turned into a week, and Amberleigh's body and mind were pushed to their limits. Her once perfect nails were broken and dirty, her once shiny hair matted and greasy. The physical toll was enormous, but the emotional toll was even greater. Hunger gnawed at her insides, and every step was a battle against exhaustion.
One fateful afternoon, as she wandered through a dense forest, Amberleigh stumbled upon a small, desolate cabin. With her last reserves of strength, she approached the door and collapsed, unconscious.
When Amberleigh didn't return to her city after the hiking trip, no one in her circle of friends seemed overly concerned. They assumed she had found another crowd to impress, another group to dazzle with her looks and charm. It wasn't until a local search party, alerted by a concerned store owner who had seen a disoriented young woman pass through days earlier, found her lifeless body near the cabin that anyone realized the gravity of the situation.
The official report stated that Amberleigh had succumbed to exposure and dehydration. Alone and without the survival skills or inner resilience to save herself, she had perished in the wilderness. The very qualities that had once made her the center of attention—her beauty, her arrogance—had ultimately led to her downfall.
Her so-called friends, upon hearing the news, expressed shallow condolences, but their lives quickly moved on. In the end, Amberleigh was a reminder of the fleeting nature of superficial relationships and the harsh reality of overestimating one's own importance.
Her death became a sobering lesson for those who had known her. The "Fortunate One" who had always been able to rely on her looks and charm was, in the end, nothing without genuine friends or real survival skills. The very attributes she had used to elevate herself were not enough to save her when she needed help the most.
Hanari Carnes stood on the balcony of his lavish Miami home, the city lights shimmering behind him. The night was warm, a gentle breeze rustling the palm trees that lined his property. Dressed in a sharp white suit, Hanari looked every bit the successful, self-made man he was. He leaned on the railing, his eyes fierce with determination as he shouted down to the tourists, locals, and everyone walking by who would listen.
"Listen up, everyone! Chu all saw what happen! Si! Chu all saw how she win! Pequeño vagabundo sucio! It not because she better than me. No, no, no. She win because of them. She win because she got her little friends helpin' her. She nothin' without them. She just a puppet, a face with no real power. She think she Una campeona? Ha! The only reason she got that belt is because of THEM. They interfere. They save her when she was about to tap out. I had her, mang. I had her in that ring, seconds away from submitting. Chu all saw it. She was hecho! Terminada! And then, they come in, they ruin it all."
He shook his head, the frustration palpable in his voice. "She don’t deserve that title. She don’t deserve to be called a champion. She just a fraud, a fake. She make a name off being affiliated with them, not because she got any real talent. Without them, she nothing. She just a pretty face with no real skill."
Hanari stepped back from the railing, his face a mask of controlled anger. "But let me tell chu someting, chica. Chor time, es a comin'. Chu can't hide behind them forever. Sooner or later, chu gonna be in that ring with me again, and dis time, there ain't gonna be nobody to save you. No amigos, no interference, jus' chu and me. Tú y yo. And when that happen, chu gonna see what it really mean to be una campeona. Chu gonna see the difference between chu and me."
He spread his arms wide, encompassing the city behind him. "I build dis. I earn everything I got. No help, no shortcut, jus' hard work and determination. That’s what a campeón is. That’s what a real winner look like. And soon, everybody gonna see that chu just a paper campeón. Chu just a girl playin’ dress-up with a title that don’t belong to you."
Hanari leaned back against the railing, his expression softening slightly as a smirk played on his lips. "So enjoy chor little moment in da sun, chica. Enjoy chor time in the spotlight. Because soon, it all gonna come crashin' down. And when it does, I gonna be there to pick up the pieces and show the world what a true campeón look like."
He pushed away from the railing, turning to walk back into his home, but not before throwing one last glance over his shoulder at the city he would be returning home to as champion. "Remember dis face. Remember dis name. Mi nombre es Hanari Carnes. El VERDADERO campeón."
Hanari Carnes walked back inside his sprawling Miami home, the warm glow of the city lights casting a golden hue through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The spacious living room, adorned with modern art and luxurious furnishings, was the epitome of opulence. On a large white leather couch, three beautiful women who could easily be mistaken for supermodels awaited him. Their eyes sparkled with admiration as they watched him stride in with the confidence of a man who knew his worth.
Hanari moved to a sleek glass bar, picking up a bottle of Don Julio 1942. He poured a generous shot, the amber liquid glistening in the dim light. With a satisfied smile, he picked up a Cuban cigar from a polished wooden humidor, clipping the end with precision before lighting it with a gold lighter. The rich aroma of the cigar filled the room, mingling with the soft scent of high-end perfume.
As he approached the couch, one of the women, a stunning brunette with piercing blue eyes, smiled at him. "You were amazing out there, Hanari," she purred, her voice low and sultry.
Hanari returned her smile, his dark eyes gleaming with pride. He settled into the couch, exuding an air of relaxed authority. The women instinctively shifted closer, drawn to his magnetic presence. Taking a slow sip of the tequila, he let the smooth warmth spread through him, savoring the moment.
With a press of a button on a sleek remote, the giant 100-inch TV mounted on the wall sprang to life. The screen displayed highlights of his recent matches, a montage of his most electrifying moments in the ring. The women watched in awe, their admiration for him only growing as they saw his prowess and skill.
Hanari leaned back, draping an arm over the back of the couch, the cigar in his hand trailing a thin line of smoke upward. "We will see how tough she es without her friend, chyea?," he said, his voice resonating with confidence. "She think she es a big deal when she no realize....she is replaceable."
The women nodded in agreement, their eyes never leaving his face. Hanari was a man on a mission, and they knew that nothing could stop him from claiming what he believed was rightfully his. As he took another sip of tequila, a satisfied smile played on his lips. He was ready for whatever challenges lay ahead, confident in his abilities and surrounded by those who admired him for who he was.
He was truly fortunate.
Hanari took another sip of his Don Julio 1942, letting the smooth tequila calm the fire within him as he leaned back against the plush white leather couch. He exhaled a thick plume of cigar smoke, his eyes narrowing as he contemplated the words he was about to unleash. The three beautiful women beside him watched in silence, sensing the intensity in the air.
He set the cigar down in an ashtray and leaned forward, his gaze piercing through the camera. “Amber, chica, chu think chu es somethin' special? Chu think bein' part of the Fortunate Ones makes ya untouchable? Lemme tell ya somethin'—chu es nothin' but expendable. How many members have they had now? Huh? They a revolving door of mediocrity, masked by Joe's ego. At the end of the day, nobody in Joe's little cult matters but JOE.”
Hanari’s tone dripped with disdain as he continued. “Mami, chu es just another pretty face that came and went. When chu lose that title—and trust me, chu es gonna lose it—chu gonna be just another name on a long list of failures. Chu think they gonna care about Amber when you ain't got that belt? No. Chu es just a tool for them, and once you no longer useful, you es out. They gonna find someone else to fill your spot, just like they always do.”
He leaned back again, his expression a mix of confidence and contempt. “Chu know what happens Monday Night? Chu step into that ring with me, and chu gonna tap out. Chu gonna realize how alone ya truly are when ya got nobody to save ya. Chu think they gonna be dere for you? Pssht. Think again mamacita. When chu tap out to Hanari Carnes, the real campeón, chu gonna see the truth. Chu es just a puppet, and chor strings about to get cut.”
The women beside him exchanged knowing glances, their admiration for Hanari only growing as he spoke with unwavering conviction.
“Remember this, puta. When chu on that mat, gasping for breath, tapping out with nobody to save chor stupid ass, chu es gonna know you just another face that came and went. How alone chu truly es. And me? I’ll still be here, the true campeón.”
Viva La Dominicana
Viva la Hanari Carnes
Viva la.......