"Parched, orange dust spread across barren, cracked wastelands in swirling clouds, clinging to what brittle, now dead, plants had once managed to grow out in the unforgiving heat of the Mojave. The clay had cracked and been bleached almost cream under the relentless ultraviolet rays cast down upon the desolate landscapes. This sounds very unappealing, but in the centre of the gehenna, mankind had managed to craft a jewel: Las Vegas. Completely man-made, it was the destination for those weary souls who wanted to flip a coin on their life: In Vegas you could find salvation and a new start or be lost forever, it all depends on your wit and your common sense but mostly on being in the right place at the right time."
Read the rest of silentlyreflection's A Hot Fuss.
"The gate creaked as I pushed it open. Dark clouds swirled in the sky, acting like they were ready to explode with rain. Along with the clouds came the wind, causing me to shiver and cross my arms to keep warm. Why was I here? It confused me to think that I was attending a matchmaking party for a man I had never met. All I knew was that his name was Brandon Flowers, and he had invited me to his house on the tallest hill in town.
I was 16, a sophomore in high school, and when I received the invitation for this in the mail, I was completely shocked. Very few men payed attention to someone like me. Also, like I said, I had never met a man named Brandon Flowers before. Rumors about his always swirled around town, though. There were a few that said he was wealthy but antisocial and that was why he never left his home. Some other folks said that he was immortal, doomed to live until the end of time itself, and he roamed the halls of his mansion wishing for death. There was only one picture of his that I knew was in existence, and he was very attractive. Short dark hair, alluring brown eyes...it was enough to make any girl swoon. I knew that for a fact, becuase one when I was looking through the newspaper out of sheer boredom, I found the picture of him and immediately had to hold myself up to keep from collapsing. Then, three years after the picture, I was invited to a matchmaking party for Brandon himself. How coincidental."
Click through the rest of west-coastdownpour's Matchmaker.
"Martha caught her breathe and took her gaze away from the hypnotic eyes of the man sitting next to her.
'Yeah, he's supposed to pick us up late, but it sounds like he's been drinking, so I don't really know...' Martha trailed off and thought she must seem like a simpering idiot as she starred open mouthed at Brandon who was stroking his little dapper moustache.
'Sounds like a nice guy!' He said with half a smirk fleeting across his face."
Here's the rest of Karen-O's Something Better. (Probably not that Karen-O.)
"I didn't have as much faith as my parents, yet they still dragged me to Sunday school every week. Expecting me to believe the lord more than myself.
For a while, spending my Sunday mornings in that church basement was the closest thing to hell on earth for me. Until that one Sunday morning when I saw him.
Seeing Mr. Flowers for the first time as I walked in the Sunday school room was the closest thing I had to a religius experience. I remember seeing that slender body in front of that dirty chalk boards, God would have slapped me for staring at Mr. Flowers' ass for so long.
Oh, it was sinful going to that rusty building every week purely for Mr. Flowers. He drove me mad, the way he spoke with a small hint of awkwardness at first and then powerfully when he was really into the topic. I spent the next few classes day dreaming about what his body looked like under those collared shirts and slacks, what those hands could do to me, gosh his hands were beautiful. I wanted his mouth on mind, I wanted to know what his body felt against mine."
Get steamy with the rest of SecretlyWritingHere's Take Me to Church.
"I look over at Tana & can't help but to smile. There she was working hard in the kitchen, making me an amazing breakfast, doing what it took to try and make me happy. She always did what she could to help keep this family together. I know it wasn't easy me being gone all the time. It was extremely difficult for me to. But this was my job, as well as life passion. Music was just something I could never give up."
Read the rest of VictimOfTheKillers' Carry Me Home.
"Sitting on the edge of her hotel bed, she looked at the place where he had been. A faint outline of his body could be distinguished but thankfully he was gone.
Placing her head in her hands, she moaned. She couldn't believe it hand happened again.
She had sworn they'd stop. But they were back to their normal nightly routine.
She got up and started getting ready for another day, pulling on her clothes and thinking of how it all began...
Everything about you...
It was hard to believe they hated each other. The couple on the bed certainly didn't look like they hated each other. An eerie light was cast over them as they moved together, trapped in a world of their own, some where else other than the cheap hotel room with it's bare, peeling walls, decaying white bed sheets, small bedside table and single lamp by which they were copulating."
Read the rest of carkid42's It's Hard to Say.
"'Who's the owner's song?' I open my mouth of curiosity. The flawless plastic woman points behind me in the corner. I turn over my shoulder and smile seeing a dashing man roughly 18 years old. Very handsome. He had gelled dirty blonde hair and is wearing an expensive suit. He's leanring against a wall. He's slick and might I say very attractive. He notices me looking at him and smirks and gives me a sexy wink and then continues his conversation with another man. I turn back to the lady.
'I'll get a bellhop to bring your luggage up.' She nods, smiles, and slams her finger on the golden bell. Coming from noewhere a teenaged boy probably the same age as me stands straight beside me. He's cute. Dark haired, brown eyes. He has a little bit of a smile and nervous feel. 'Brandon, Room 317.' The lady looks at him and her face is not smiling anymore. She flicks her head to me signaling him to probably take my luggage and follow me to my room."
Flip through carkid42's Miss Atomic Bomb.
"'Brandon?' whispered my brave wife. 'Brandon, can I hold her?' I shot her a wide eyed smile and reluctantly handed over my new reason to smile. I slowly pulled my Battle Born shirt back over my chest and I lay back into the leather recliner seat, I observed how careful Tana was when she handled her, holding her like she was a bubble that could easily be popped if you move too quickly. Tana sat upright in the bed and cradled Heather in her arms, cooing over her, looking at her--admiring the life that we had made together."
Read the rest of MissAtomicBex's You Know You've Got Your Daddy's Eyes.
"I was finally living my dream. I was at a Killers concert. It was the best time of my life, or so I thought. Things were about to get exorbitantly fantastic and horrid simultaneously.
I leaped up and down with the crowd, screaming more than I had at that Jonas Brothers concert I'd gone to when I was nine. I couldn't beleive that I was in the same room as my favorite band. The seat I had wasn't fantastic, but I wasn't so far away from the stage that I had to look at the jumbotron. I watched Brandon as he put one foot on a speaker and looked in my direction. I melted, even though I knew there was no way we made eye contract. But still, it was exciting to have a famous person even look in my direction. And then the lights went out. Screams erupted around the concert hall and then I heard nothing but silence. I closed my eyes tight.
When I reopened them, I was standing in a slightly brighter room, next to a man who had his hand on the back of his head. Then I heard the man speak.
'Where the hell am I?' Nope, not just a man, the one man I'd been wanting to meet ever since I was thirteen. Brandon Flowers. I turned to face him."