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       #Post#: 3056--------------------------------------------------
       A Love Untold
   DIR By: Maggie Flannery
       Date: June 2, 2015, 11:20 pm
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  HTML https://farm9.staticflickr.com/8838/17717620434_35456287c9_z.jpg
  HTML https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7765/18218809368_fdf332602b.jpg
       Theme:
  HTML https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a1jxuaseldw
       Summary: Their friends thought they were perfect for one
       another, he was the dark broody musician mad at the world type
       and she was the sweet slightly flighty artist. Both creative in
       their own right. So nothing could possibly go wrong, right? The
       first initial meet up, his car wouldn't start. The second time,
       she was stuck in traffic coming out of Ballard. The third time
       they were both in the check out line getting "supplies" for a
       date that never happened thanks to an older lady who insisted on
       paying for her grocery order in pennies. Maybe the fourth time
       around will finally lead these two on the right path.
       Polyvore:
  HTML http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/collection?id=4453904
       Playlist :
  HTML https://open.spotify.com/user/highlandfling22/playlist/48cltKNMBdbBy2OJH8DROq
       Various Settings :
       Fern Grove Cottage/ Annie's Place ( have to wonder if she knows
       who her landlord is?)
  HTML https://farm8.staticflickr.com/7784/18337297502_d34848a1d1_z.jpg
       Gray Grove House / Adam's Home ( He rambles around in there like
       a ping pong ball in a dryer)
  HTML https://farm1.staticflickr.com/527/18341295105_4c481b7b45_z.jpg
       #Post#: 3058--------------------------------------------------
       Re: A Love Untold
   DIR By: Wolfy
       Date: June 4, 2015, 11:57 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       :D
       I think I just fell in love with everything. I especially love
       your Polyvore sets! and was wondering when we'd get a fic with
       Tom included so this is a treat! I also love your playlist~
       haven't heard some of those before but they're now in one of my
       youtube listings so I can listen again as the story progresses
       xD oh and also, last but definitely not least~ their homes are
       beautiful, both of them :o
       #Post#: 3060--------------------------------------------------
       Re: A Love Untold
   DIR By: Maggie Flannery
       Date: June 13, 2015, 3:23 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       **A/N** All individuals mentioned within this story are
       fictional. Likeness is purely a coincidence. Please note that
       this is a work of pure fiction, I make nothing from these
       writings so please do no post them elsewhere without my
       permission. ( I don't bite I swear, all you've got to do is ask)
       Enjoy! P.S. Not entirely sure if I stated Annie's age as 26 in
       this, I screwed up. She's in her mid 30's, did't want to give an
       exact age for a change. Now, Enjoy! P.P.S Does the formatting on
       this look ok? Call me paranoid. Ok, [i]now enjoy! Sorry![/i]
       
       
       *.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.
       May  ’90 ( 1st Blind Date Prep ) Annie’s POV
       “Oh come on, Annie! It’ll be fun, besides PJ and I can vouch for
       him. Sure, he’s a little bit broody and can have a dry sense of
       humor but the last time I checked you liked that in a guy.
       Believe me, Adam is a total sweetie once you get to know him.”
       I listened as Gwen, my best friend since kindergarten - prattle
       on about some guy her fiancé PJ ( or Philip John as he was known
       to his parents back home in Wales ) had helped mix and album
       with or something. Evidently my need to be alone had scared the
       bejesus out of the two of them and they decided to take my love
       life, or lack of, into their own hands. I wondered if Adam was
       getting this sort of pep talk from PJ or if they just went about
       their day. I think that’s where men and women differ, women make
       a sort of soul connection and have this intuition and drive to
       fix things if they find or think they’re not working. Men, well,
       men just sit in silence and shrug things off. Sometimes I think
       that even if they’re viewed as emotionally stunted they got the
       decent end of the stick. If they can push it out of their mind
       and just forget about it, it stays buried. Women, on the other
       hand end up losing vast amounts of sleep and losing or gaining a
       ton of weight just because they over analyze the big ‘what if’s’
       and ‘could have beens’ in life.
       I loved Gwen dearly, really I did but I’d come to terms with the
       fact that my ‘Mr. Right’ was going to be a no show for the rest
       of life, I’d embraced why in the world couldn’t she? It’s not
       like I didn’t have enough on my plate as it was especially in my
       line of work. Ahh, the wonderful world of art, the only
       profession where your work is totally subjective to those that
       view it. Case in point, a few weeks ago I did a few still life
       portraits to make my rent and I overheard two prospective buyers
       talking to one another while pursuing my work. They were going
       on and on about the colors and how the light hit each piece of
       fruit and the shading and washed out coloring. They thought it
       had some deeper meaning than it really took on. One woman waxed
       poetic about how the light seemed to bounce off of a particular
       withered looking pear and how it meant that I showed the signs
       of tortured artist, plagued by a dark past. I didn’t have the
       heart to tell her that I’d done that particular painting at 3 AM
       just so I’d have an even number to sell. Nor, did I tell her
       that the paint I happened to be using was some cheap ass craft
       store off brand acrylic that could be used by a toddler to do
       finger paintings with. I just smiled politely and took her
       praise, took her twenty dollars and politely waved goodbye to
       her and her would be art critic friend. So, I guess love, like
       art is very a subjective thing. One person could take it to mean
       one thing and another could take it in a totally different
       direction. Take Gwen and PJ for example she’s this free spirited
       gypsy type that works down at the free health clinic offering
       counseling to those that need it on sliding scale. Very free
       thinking and I can’t begin to count how many times she’s been
       bartered with whatever the person looking for help had in their
       pocket. Total polar opposite from PJ, while he can be very down
       to earth his work is very much a precise calculated thing, very
       much like a chemist working with precious lab equipment. I’ve
       always called him the Einstein of the soundboard because of his
       musical mixing theories.
       “Although there is that one little thing he does…but you don’t
       seem too worried about it.”
       Gwen said I finished putting the finishing touches on a
       commission piece that had a tight deadline.
       “Mhm…shouldn’t be too bad.”
       I said as my thoughts drifted around to various topics but
       settled on one that was still a small thorn in my side even
       though it had been a year after all was said and done. Greg. I
       thought I was going to marry him but life didn’t quite work out
       that way. He’d been a gifted musician always tinkering on the
       piano or guitar, slightly bookish but so was I. His music was a
       hobby of sorts, mine was gardening, two old souls were we. We
       shared a very quiet life together. He was one of the top
       OB/GYN’s in the metropolitan area, very stable, very calm, and
       very sweet. Him with his medical texts and articles and beeper
       and me with my studio filled with paints and clay, some said we
       were a mismatch but we made it work.  We were the type of couple
       that could spend entire Saturdays in and out of bookshops and
       antique stores together, if he wasn’t on call. With nine years
       age difference between us we meshed together to form this safe
       cocoon of suburban life. Then, all of the sudden we weren’t as
       happy together as we thought we’d been. He drifted and so did I,
       we tried to make it work but we were more or less room mates
       sharing the same bed. By Christmas the tiny bungalow we shared
       on Wallingford Ave didn’t seem like home anymore but since we
       hosted the annual block Christmas party since we’d moved in
       together three years before we put off the inevitable end of our
       relationship. We tried to talk but neither of us could bare to
       say that it was the end so we just quietly divided our things
       after ringing in one last New Year together and parted ways.  I
       didn’t cry nearly as much I used to but I was still adjusting,
       Seattle was big but nearly as big as I once thought it was. I’d
       occasionally run into him and his new girlfriend from time to
       time at a gallery or at the market. We’d just make this sort of
       awkward eye contact and give each other a small smile and nod
       and keep walking. I’d be lying to myself to say that I didn’t
       still think about him, I did maybe a little too much. The only
       difference that I didn’t nearly cry myself to sleep at night as
       frequently as I had in the past. Seven years together and then
       it all sort of ended ever so quietly. Didn’t stop my heart from
       breaking though, but here I was, still alive.
       “He’s a vampire and he’s got this thing for brunettes with green
       eyes that’s all. He won’t do anything except…oh…I don’t
       know..drain of you of your blood.”
       What did she just say? Blood? Vampires?
       “What?”
       “Aha! Caught you! Annie, you really were a million miles away
       weren’t you? I’m just pulling your leg. Adam’s totally safe, PJ
       and I wouldn’t set you up with anyone who wasn’t.”
       I set my brush down and shucked off my smock before looking her
       in the eye.
       “Well, there was that Mike guy from Rhode Island. He was nice
       for about an hour until he bailed on me before the check came.
       He said he had to catch a plane back to the East coast or
       something.”
       Gwen sighed and shrugged “Mike Caffee was his own man, Annie.
       What can I say? I was off on my game. Just please tell me you’ll
       give this one a chance. I’ve got a really really good feeling
       about it.”
       I thought for a moment, it was Friday after all. I didn’t really
       feel like staying in again and talking to the cat or watching
       really crappy B movies on cable so why not? What exactly did I
       have to lose? Nothing at all.
       “Fine, what time and where?”
       Gwen gave me a dazzling grin and all but twirled around my
       studio clapping her hands. She was always excited about even the
       smallest of things but having her match making endeavor pay off
       seemed to be a real thrill.
       “Yes! Oh, wait a second I’ve got the place written down
       somewhere…”
       She said as she dug through her magical bag of tricks that was
       her purse.  A few more seconds of digging and she came out with
       her date book and a sticky note.
       “It’s called the Rum Runner Cafe over on 1st Ave. He’s usually
       in the studio tinkering around but PJ promised to have him out
       of there by six tonight. He’ll meet you inside he said. You’ll
       know him when you see him, tall, very dark hair, light blue
       green eyes, really doesn’t get enough sunlight. Rail thin.”
       I raised an eyebrow again and sighed as I went over to rinse out
       my brushes in the utility sink.
       “So, a sickly looking bean pole that has dark hair and scowls? I
       know the place you’re talking about, I did the mural in the
       place next door.”
       Gwen let out a sigh and nodded before pulling me in for a hug.
       “Need help picking out an outfit or are we good in that
       department? Wait wait! Give me an idea what you’re going to wear
       so I can tell PJ to tell Adam.”
       I was caught a little off guard  I didn’t really plan what I was
       going to wear from day to day so this required some thought. I’d
       just gone to the laundromat on Monday so I had more than a few
       options.
       “Uh…I was thinking of wearing what I’ve got on, why?”
       Gwen studied me for a moment before shaking her head. This was
       going to be good, I could just tell.
       “Not sure if you’ve noticed but you’re more paint that human at
       the moment my dear. Not to mention you’ve got dried clay all
       over you.”
       I looked down and sighed, she was right, try as I might my
       chosen profession really shined through in my clothes today.
       “Alright, how about that black sundress with the sunflowers on
       it? It’s not too formal or too casual.”
       The look on Gwen’s face told me to keep going. The girl was a
       real hound for the details of my wardrobe it seemed.
       “I’ll probably wear a pair of flats or something. Or my boots,
       it’s supposed to rain tonight. Ugh, if it’s going to rain I’m
       just leaving my hair down…are you seriously writing this down?!
       Gwendolyn Marie Aston I swear to God!”
       I watched in horror as she made her way over to my battered
       paint smudged fax machine and looked at me before shaking her
       head.
       “Is there anything in this studio that’s not covered in paint or
       clay residue? It’s the 90’s, Annie are you ever going to get
       with the program?”
       I bristled at her comment and finished rinsing out my brushes, I
       was very well aware at what year we were currently living in.
       “Yes, as a matter of fact I am. I’ve got a beeper and a car
       phone for pete’s sake and not to mention a Macintosh.”
       Gwen arched a delicate brow at me and laughed as she tried to
       figure out which button was which.
       “And have you actually taken it out of the box yet or is it
       still in the box by your desk? Now, can you give me a hand over
       here I can’t tell which button’s are which because they’re
       covered in a lovely shade of puke green.”
       I rolled my eyes as I made my way over and hit the buttons for
       her before correcting her.
       “If you must know what shade that is it’s neon verde mixed with
       hunter’s foliage thank you very much. Learn your colors my dear.
       I can’t believe you did that. Whatever happened to the tried and
       true introducing yourself thing? Can’t I just go ‘Hello,  you
       must be Adam. I’m Anne or is that all too old fashioned for the
       90’s? I’m old and ornery and stuck in my ways, Gwen.”
       I asked as I flopped down on the battered sheet covered couch
       that was off to one end of the studio as Gwen came over and sat
       down next to me.
       “Oh, you could but knowing Adam he’d be too dumbstruck to say
       anything. He’s not much of a talker on first meetings but I’ve
       got a feeling that you’ll break that shell of his.”
       “Oh great, you’re sending me to break this poor guy. What if..”
       “You’ll do fine, don’t you dare focus on those what if’s, Anne.
       You can do this, you need to get out more. Staying in that
       cottage of yours is really starting to worry me, not to mention
       the fact that you haven’t even invited me over yet. It can’t be
       that bad can it?”
       The fact that I’d finally moved into my own place three months
       ago instead of just staying in the studio or couch surfing
       between friends was a real accomplishment for me. To find a
       place that was partially furnished was something else, I’d
       thought I struck gold until I was told by the real estate agent
       that I was under no circumstances supposed to actually go up to
       the main house on the property I shared. My would be landlord
       was a bit of a recluse that lived in the massive main estate
       called Grey Grove House. I was quietly nestled in the back of
       the property with my very own driveway off of a side road with a
       rather spectacular view of a patch of woodland and an ancient
       overgrown greenhouse. I was instructed to mail my rent check
       addressed care of a  “Percy Wentworth” on the first of every
       month and under no exceptions was I actually supposed to go up
       to the main house. Weird. But it was home and the rent was
       reasonable and the place was nice and homey. And quiet. After
       living in the bustling suburban hub of Seattle for so long with
       Greg I needed to recharge on the older outskirts of the city.
       Our neighborhood, if you could even call it that, was almost
       deserted and the mammoth sized estates were becoming relics in
       their own right and all but falling down on themselves.
       “Your mind’s wandering again.”
       “No, I heard you. I’ll invite you over one of these days, it’s
       just…I-I’m still going through boxes and getting furniture moved
       around. I spend like ninety-nine percent of my time here, Gwen.
       By the time I get home I’m too tired to even dial the phone for
       take out let alone pick the place up and invite guests over.
       Rest assured that you and the Welshman over one of these days, I
       promise.”
       Gwen sighed as she gave me one last hug before passing me my
       purse and keys and all but shoving me out the door to my car.
       “Maybe after tonight you’ll have someone of your very own. Then
       we can do the whole group date thing…ooh and cooking classes and
       couple cruises! Though come to think of it you two might
       burn…you’d better get a move on traffic’ll be horrendous if you
       wait any longer to leave. Call me and tell me everything!”
       I shook my head at her enthusiasm, she’d practically married me
       off to this guy. I had to say that I incredibly lucky to have
       someone like Gwen in my life, she kept me grounded just a tad
       but encouraged me to keep being myself. The drive home I
       couldn’t help but wonder if I was making a mistake, I didn’t
       want to get my hopes up knowing my luck this guy was either
       flightier than me or a complete basket case that was just angry
       at the world.
       “Well, if he’s a certifiable nutcase I’ll just walk right out,
       that’s what I’ll do.”
       I said to myself as I pulled into my driveway and trekked up the
       steps and into the house. I glanced at the clock and sighed.
       Three hours left. I could fill three hours couldn’t I? Of course
       I could, I laid out my clothes, drew myself a bath and scrubbed
       myself within and inch of my life until I was red as a lobster
       and smooth as a newborn. I then filled another hour by carefully
       applying lotion and doing my makeup all the while sitting in my
       bathrobe trying to keep my ever loyal feline companion away from
       my face.
       “Frida! Knock it off!”
       I warned my otherwise aloof mackerel tabby roomy. She just
       looked at me with wide yellow green eyes and swished her tail in
       my face again as if to say ‘Or you’ll do what, Donnelly?’
       “There’s a can of Fancy Feast in the cupboard with your name on
       it that I could just forget to give you. Wouldn’t like that very
       much with you, miss? What if my date turns out to be a real nut
       and you never see me again, hmm? Then who would feed you my
       dear?”
       Frida gave me a curt reply via a head butt and jumped down from
       my vanity only to sit patiently in my bedroom doorway. Nothing
       about this exchange struck either of us as unusual, after all I
       lived alone and who else could I talk to? Myself? I tried that
       and it didn’t end well, of course it didn’t help that I was
       staying with Gwen and PJ at the time, they both feared for my
       sanity. I gave myself a final once over in the mirror before
       spritzing myself with the bottle of perfume that sat mostly
       unused on my vanity. Sunflowers. Something new and untested, I
       had decided to buy it on a whim after making a deal with myself
       that if I finally found a place of my very own I’d indulge in
       something I normally didn’t. Perfume being one of those fickle
       things I decided to give it a go, anything was better than the
       lotion I’d been using since high school.  I changed quickly and
       padded out to the small kitchen downstairs to feed Frida and
       check her water before I left, she had a nasty habit of turning
       on the kitchen sink tap to get a drink if her bowl got below
       half way full. I swore that she thought she was human half the
       time and I was just her servant.
       “But what if this date goes well? Then what the hell do I do,
       Frida? What if I get too clingy or I weird him out in some
       strange way?”
       Frida looked up at me and gave me a gentle nudge with her head
       telling me that I’d be fine. I set her food in front of her and
       filled her dish before looking at the clock above the stove. If
       I left now I’d have a few minutes to myself before he showed
       up..unless he had the same idea I did then we’d end up meeting
       one another at the door or something.
       Just go! It won’t be that bad!
       My mind screamed as I grabbed my bag and coat and gave Frida a
       scratch behind the ears before I left.
       “Don’t wait up, Frida. Or do..it’s a free country.”
       I called before locking the front door behind me and venturing
       out to my car. I noticed the storm clouds were getting closer,
       thankfully I’d have the sense to wear sensible shoes instead of
       the heels I’d been eyeing in my closet.
       The drive took a little longer than expected but thankfully I
       arrived in one piece and to find the cafe almost empty except
       for two other patrons, neither of which looked as how Gwen had
       described my mystery date. So, I took the time to calm myself
       and order a glass of water. Things were going to be okay, they
       were going to be just fine. But what if they weren’t? What if he
       took one look at me and ran screaming?
       Oh God I can’t do this. What am I doing? I'm much better off
       alone. I've got my work, I've got a cat what more do I need?
       I thought to myself as I sipped nervously on my water and
       watched the door and then my watch. Thirty minutes went by and
       nothing. Forty-five minutes. An hour. I finally broke down and
       ordered myself dinner and watched as a car got towed down the
       road and the rain seemed to pour down in buckets. Three more
       hours and one very unsettled stomach later I paid my bill and
       went home. I chalked it up to being upset that my evening didn’t
       go as planned. Maybe something came up? Maybe he was sick? Maybe
       he just didn’t care? I hurriedly checked my answering machine
       only to find that something was up with the tape. I was left
       with a pile of brown tinsel on my side table and glower etched
       on my face.
       “I swear this things is nothing but a headache all it does it
       eat the damn tapes.”
       I grumbled and was quickly silenced by a rather angry rumbling
       in my stomach. The salmon filet I’d ordered was not sitting well
       with me at all, should have known not to order seafood at a
       place that can’t even make a decent cup of tea.
       I spent the night alternating between crying and puking and
       sometimes both at the same time until I heard my phone ring
       early the next morning.
       “Uh…Is this- Is this Anne Donnelly?”
       I was bleary eyed and still nauseous but I managed to answer the
       rather reserved British voice on the other end of the phone.
       “Yes, who may I ask is calling?”
       “It’s Adam. Adam Graden, we were supposed to meet last night. I
       uh left you a message and you hadn’t called me back so I figured
       I’d call again to reschedule. I’m terribly sorry about last
       night. I - well my car died half way from the studio to the cafe
       and I ended up stranded in the middle of traffic. I’d like to
       make it up to you..somehow.”
       I was completely taken aback. Here was this mild mannered guy
       calling me a second time to apologize for not showing up on a
       blind date.  I was flummoxed.
       “I..uh…sure. How about uh..”
       I fumbled for my calendar and noticed I’d be spending quite a
       bit of time in the art studio but I had next Saturday free.
       “I’m booked solid next week doing commissions and I’m not
       feeling the best at the moment. But I’m free next Saturday if
       that works for you?”
       I could hear papers shuffling around on the other end of the
       phone and then a groan.
       “I’m book solid working on the mixing desk but oh wait! Uh how
       does the 18th work for you? I believe it’s a Friday.”
       I flipped my calendar and smiled.
       “The 18th works for me, it’s a date then. How about somewhere
       else besides the Rum Runner?”
       A smooth chuckle was heard over the line.
       “You ordered the salmon, huh? I should have told Gwen to give
       you the head’s up to steer clear of their seafood dishes. How
       about the place over on second ave? I think it’s french.”
       I’d never been one for heavier food, french in particular but I
       surprised myself and agreed.
       “Sounds wonderful, I think it’s called La Chambre Rouge.”
       “That’s it! I’m horrible with names of new places. Alright, I’ve
       got it penciled in, I’ll see you in. Oh, and I heart ginger ale
       and crackers help with food poisoning. Get well soon.”
       I found myself almost giddy as we each hung up and my head
       swimming slightly. I wasn’t sure if it was from the fact that
       we’d have a rather nice phone conversation or the fact that I
       might very well be dehydrated. Either way, Adam Graden did seem
       like a rather nice guy.  I flopped down on the couch in the tiny
       living room and Frida curled up next to me purring happily to
       find me at home today.
       “I hope I don’t manage to screw this all up.”
       I muttered as I gave Frida a scratch between the ears and
       drifted back off to sleep a sense of calm washing over me as I
       drifted off to sleep.
       #Post#: 3061--------------------------------------------------
       Re: A Love Untold
   DIR By: Wolfy
       Date: June 14, 2015, 9:52 am
       ---------------------------------------------------------
       Perfect first update ++ cannot wait for the next one. I
       desperately need to find some time to watch Only Lovers Left
       Alive because Adam seems all the more fascinating, every single
       time I see him or read about him. And now this! I'm being swayed
       so I'll definitely find the time. I hope Annie can find all that
       happiness she's hoping for - she seems lovely and her friend is
       hilarious - also, the fact that Adam called to apologise... not
       many men would take time out to do that ❤
       *****************************************************
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