|All Guys Are Frogs
Author: TheHungryCaterpillar PM
Karen, a 22 year old serial-disaster-dater, who survives in New York as an unemployed business woman, is at a loss on how to find her prince. In a desperate attempt to change her luck she turns to the pages of Cosmopolitan, her sister and a reluctant male bartender for guidance. You know what they say, 'you have to kiss many frogs until you find your prince'.Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Humor - Chapters: 10 - Words: 17,730 - Reviews: 13 - Favs: 8 - Follows: 13 - Updated: 01-14-13 - Published: 08-07-12 - id: 3048706
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
What you are about to read is a tale of romance, my romance. Yes, that does make it a true story. My name for this story is Karen, which is far from my birth-right name. Why would I give you my actual name? I am already giving you my location; I don't want any creepies coming after me thinking they can land a desperate girl. I've also done the liberty of changing the names of anyone involved so no reputations or feelings are hurt. Disclaimer: any resemblance to a person in reality is coincidental. Anyway, I'm writing this story for myself mostly, but feel free to indulge in my many embarrassing moments, mistakes and toe-curling kisses. Now, I'm not giving away the ending. No, No, No. You'll just have to wait and see if I get my prince. Maybe I never find him, forcing me to live a loveless life filled with many cats or maybe as soon as I step out onto the street I bump into my dream guy and he whisks me away in his shiny white Mercedes. Yeah, I've always wanted a white Mercedes. Anyway, the point I'm trying to make is that: Love is a gamble, you could get your heartbroken, but you could end up with the greatest thing ever. As my sister always put it, "You have to kiss many frogs until you find your prince." It took me a while to figure out what she meant. And it does not mean being a hussy!
I knew it would be coming, even if it wasn't expected. That dreaded call. You know the one, the guy does that lame expression of 'it's not you, it's me', then you cry forever afterwards because you know it's totally you. Well that's the stage I'm at right now. After the call I got from my newly appointed ex, I resorted to curling up in my bed with my favorite grey sweats and old t-shirt.
Somebody call the waaambulance… okay that was bad.
I thought things were looking good for Ryan and me but I guess he had other plans. I think back to what he had said to me on the phone. I hadn't gotten over the shock of 'it's not you, it's me' to understand the rest of his rambling words. As I remembered I wasn't upset anymore. No… I was angry.
"Karen, I think I like somebody else, you probably don't know her since she's a model. If you did, you would understand why we can't see each other anymore. She has the best set of…" I hear a girl's voice in the background. "Uh... I got to go."
No. Karen it's your fault that you fell for a guy like that, you should have known better. Remember how he used to check out all those waitresses?
I sigh; my own conscience was even against me. I go back to rubbing my face into my, now drenched with tears, pillow.
I had moved here on a whim, following my younger sister, Meg, to New York. She's currently a model stylist. Meg has been working her way up in the fashion world since she moved here right out of high school. I was busy finishing my last two years of college, getting my BA in Marketing. I still have no idea what I want to do with it. So instead of bumming it a home, where my parents would be constantly nagging me about my lack of a husband, I moved here. I love it in New York, in my nice apartment looking out into a trashed alleyway.
Beautiful scenery, might I tell you.
Mostly, I love this place because of my sister is here with me. Growing up we were like butter on bread, always having each other's backs. So it didn't surprise me when she noticed my lack of love life and started setting me up with friend's-of-a-friend's. Yeah like that worked out well. Everyone one of them either never called back after one date or would become my painstakingly short-lived boyfriend, eventually running off with another gorgeous model.
Where did I go wrong? I started to give up on love, agreeing that it's just not for me. But Meg never quits. She is what many would call a hopeless romantic. She believes in Prince Charmings, soul mates and love-at-first-sites (especially love-at-first-sites). I used to believe in all that stuff. But lately… no. After my run in with Ryan, consider me done. I would've liked to be a hopeless romantic, but lately all I've been is hopeless. Pathetically hopeless actually, as I am currently wrapped in my bed sheets like a caterpillar, face down into the pillow. Hoping that I might accidently suffocate myself out of a loveless life.
I turn my head slightly when I hear my bedroom door opening.
"Karen, you in here?" Meg whispers. I grunt in reply. She flips on the light switch; I quickly hid my face from the light and her.
"Have you been in here all day?" She asks trying to rip at the cocoon I made around me.
"I don't know… What time isit?" I groggily ask to myself. I glance at the alarm clock. The illuminating numbers showing 10:18 pm confirm Meg's question. I've been in here since before noon, on a Saturday. How lame am I?
I sit up slowly and finally look at her.
"Oh… my... god, what's with your face!? Have you been crying?" she stares at my eyeliner and mascara, most likely, smeared down my face. I probably look like a corpse. "I guess it didn't work out with Ryan?" I look away from her sympathetic gaze down to my make-up ruined pillow.
"He called and said that we shouldn't see each other anymore." My voice cracked. I started pulling at my woven blanket.
"And he didn't say why?"
"Well he mentioned he met someone else. A model at that! Isn't this like the tenth time this has happened to me? Ugh, stupid models with their good looks and man-stealing bodies. "
I glare at her but she's not the person I'm mad at and she knows it.
Meg chuckles light-heartedly, "Ryan is a dumbass to give you up so easily, but you can't give up! We will find you another guy. You know what they say, 'you have to kiss many frogs until you find your prince'. "
"What a load of crap! I love how they don't explain how many frogs. The way things have been happening, I'm going on frog number thirty and I've been here a whole year!" I exasperated.
Is there a time when enough is enough?
"Mom and Dad would be turning in their graves if they heard that!" She laughed.
"If they were dead…" I smirk at her. "But no. They are alive and well. So when they call to have us for Christmas dinner they will be in their graves when they hear I don't have, at least, a husband-potential boyfriend."
"Karen, you know I've got your back. I'll get you a date for the Christmas dinner."
"Nope, I've had enough of your set-ups. My heart can't make it through another heartbreak." I fall dramatically back onto my bed.
"Oh, get up you fool." She pulls me back to her. "Listen here, sista! I promise to look extra careful this time."
"Thanks but no thanks" I deadpan. I pull the covers back over me, back into my cocoon. It's safe from heartbreakers and hopeless romantic matchmakers.
"Maybe thirty is your lucky number." I sigh at her optimism but don't say anything. "Goodnight, Karen" Meg leaves realizing the conversation was over. She quickly turned off the lights and closed the door.
"Goodnight!" I yell at her not knowing if she could even hear me or not.
I quickly fell asleep. It felt good to close my bloodshot eyes.
I dream of a land with rolling hills. I'm sitting on the long grass that billows in the wind. The hills of grass resemble a green ocean. I hear faint galloping from behind me and quickly look, but I can't see clearly through the forest to know where it is.
As I stand up to find where the galloping is coming from, my gown weighs me down. It's heavier than I thought it would be. I pick up the skirts and track down the sound. Weaving through the trees and ducking under the low branches. The galloping becomes fainter than finally stops. I push through the dense brush quickly and find myself in a small clearing. A majestic white horse takes up the space. There is a man on top of it but I can't see his face because he is turned away from me. His dark brown hair shines in the sunlight. I know that this man is my prince, I can feel it. From the warm tingle that comes from my skin and the way my legs feel weightless. I need to know who he is.
I'm desperate to know who he is.
Just as I get close everything slows down. There's no more wind, no more sounds. I try to peek around to catch a glimpse at his face, or at least his profile. Does he have a strong jaw? I walk around towards the front of the horse, getting closer still. But I can't see his face. It's like every move I make, he counteracts it. The world shifts him, only him, away from me. Why can't I see him? I walk quicker around the horse, trying to catch up. Leaning in closer, my foot snaps a twig on the ground. Then, everything is still, I hold my breath. Quicker than a blink, his head turns toward me. Blank. He didn't have a face at all! Shocked by his movements I quickly step backward but I slip. Suddenly I'm falling.
I wake up as I hit the ground of my bedroom floor, sheets twisted around my legs. Oh what a nightmare. I rub the pain away from my ass. Groggily, I kick off the sheets. Making my way into the kitchen, I notice a torn paper on the counter.
'I got called into work this morning. When I get back we will talk all about your boy troubles. I'm the best sister so I left you some coffee. Love Meg.'
I pour the lukewarm coffee into a cup. I make my way into the living room prepared to fulfill my Sunday morning routine by curling up on the couch as I watch 'Good Morning America'. Just as I'm about to sit down and enjoy my morning, the doorbell rings.
"Hold on!' I yell towards the stranger at the door. I carefully set down my coffee, not wanting to spill any of the caffeinated goodness. As I walk to the door I absentmindedly pretend that it's my prince behind the door, ready for me to jump into his arms. I roll my eyes at the odds of that occurring and coldly think that it just might be Ryan. He's probably not here to grovel but just forgot something here.
"Ryan! You can go to…" I pull the door open quickly to see… no one? "…hell" I finish in a whisper.
A doorbell ditcher? I step out into the hallway. I look back and forth down the poorly lit passageways. Turning back around my foot slips on something. I look down to see a clear packaging of a Cosmopolitan magazine. I pick it up. Must be Meg's.
She's extremely into these types of magazines. I personally have never read one.
I take it back to the couch to study it further. There is a pretty blonde on the front cover, making me immediately envious of the big boobs and perfectly curled hair. Don't get me wrong. I don't consider myself ugly but I'm not drop dead gorgeous. I guess that makes me…average? I scan through the many articles staged on the front: '4 words that can seduce any man', 'Weird, amazing facts about love' and '5 ways to get him hooked'.
Intrigued I ripped off the plastic covering.