Chapter 1 - New Girl on the Block

When she imagined making a new start, somewhere where no one knew her name or her reputation or her goals, Rhiannon Toft hadn't really expected something this...grungy.

Rhi moved through the apartment carefully, staring at the stains on the carpet with a cringe or two. Well. At least this was only temporary, right? After all, eventually she was bound to become a famous movie star, and then she'd be living the high life down here in Bridgeport.

The mere thought made her perk up a little. And why couldn't she, really? She was beautiful. She was charming. She knew how to get what she wanted. It was a win-win situation.

But, alas, her job as an Extra down at the Studio didn't start for a few more hours...so she figured that she might as well check out the neighbors.

And so she went.

Since when did doorbells sound that loud anyway?! Rhiannon sprung back in surprise, her heart pounding, but the second the door swung open her heart was pounding for an entirely different reason.

Oh.

"Can I help you?"

"Oh, no, I just..." Rhiannon reeled her mind in, straightened her spine, and flashed him a grin. "I just moved in down the hall, actually."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah, right there past the elevator?" She pointed behind her. "I just thought I'd come meet my neighbors."

"Neighbor." He smiled, rubbing the back of his neck. "This floor's, uh, pretty abandoned, actually."

"Really?" Rhiannon chuckled, tossing her hair. "I find that hard to believe. With a neighbor as handsome as you? I'd expect this hall to be full."

She couldn't be sure if he was interested or not, but, really, why in the world would she say he wasn't? She was Rhiannon Toft.

"Anyway." She extended a hand. "Rhiannon Toft. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr...?"

"Truman. Truman Love." He shook her hand and grinned. "Pleasure's all mine, Rhiannon. Call me Truman, though. Mr. Love just sounds...well."

It sounded promising, actually, but Rhiannon decided she might want to keep that to herself for the moment. "Truman it is. Well, Truman, you'll have to do me a favor." She pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket as well as a pencil and scribbled down her familiar cell phone number.

"Promise you'll give me a call and a tour around Bridgeport soon, all right?"

Truman turned his head to look at her with a smirk, quirking his brow a little higher. But he didn't move away, not an inch. He seemed to relish her closeness there, the fact that he could lean forward and kiss her at any moment, and it drew a long shiver down Rhiannon's spine in sheer excitement. "I'll do that." He backed away from her, paper in his hand, and nodded to her. "Have a good night, Rhiannon."

As he gently shut the door, Rhiannon pressed a hand to her forehead with a satisfied smirk herself. All right. That was most definitely a date.

Rhiannon took herself off to work just a short while later, where really strange things happened.

"I've heard of trying to become a different character, but this is ridiculous."

She was about to grab a taxi when her cell phone vibrated in her purse. There was a short text. "Truman here. Up for a fun time at a bar? Catch a taxi and meet me at Waylon's Haunt."

That sounded promising.

It was deserted when she arrived, but there was something...exciting about the dirtyness of it all. She scanned the room, taking in the grungy bar, the worn chairs and tables, the bathroom doors covered in all kinds of memorabilia, and shook her head with a chuckle. She felt incredibly overdressed all of the sudden.

She zipped a text back. "I'm here. Not thinking of standing me up, are you? I was thinking of buying you a drink or two." Or ten. Anything to see how loose Mr. Love could get if given the chance.

She lingered by the doorway, nodding in time to the music and observing the rest of the scenery, just before she got a text back. "Stand up a promise like that? No way. Be there before you know it."

Rhiannon smirked and smoothed down her hair. Maybe it'd be a better night than she thought.

Truman slipped inside moments later, smelling musky and as masculine as he could be in a sweater like that. Rhiannon made a mental note to buy him a few new clothes if she decided to keep him around for a little while.

"You look nice," Truman said, grinning at her.

Rhiannon looked down at herself, smoothing her hands over the silky material of her clothing. "Well, thank you. A girl can't help but get all dressed up for an invitation from Mr. Love."

Truman snorted and shook his head. "All right, I was gonna buy you the first drink, but if you're gonna start talking like that all night you can just tell it goodbye." He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, the corners of his lips twitching with repressed mirth.

She looked up at him through long eyelashes. "Now that's a challenge if I've ever heard it." She reached out and grabbed his hand, feeling that little shiver of excitement again when she felt the scratch of callouses on his palm. Plumbob, that'd feel nice running all over her. "You city boys know how to dance?"

Apparently Truman didn't have many fans, like the woman that stood on the dance floor and scowled at him the entire time, but Rhiannon learned a long time ago not to pay women like that any mind.

"How'm I doing?" Truman called over the music with a smile.

"You're all right," she called back, letting the sway of her hips lead her closer to him with a mischievous gleam in her eyes. "But you're tense like nothing else. C'mere, lemme take care of that."

Truman's eyes widened, but he acquiesed and turned his back to her. She bit the tip of her tongue in concentration as she pressed her hands into the knots all along his shoulder lines, fingers expertly destroying them.

Truman groaned in appreciation, sending a familiar thrum through her belly. "Shit, girl, where'd you learn to do a thing like that?"

Rhiannon smirked. She leaned forward on a particularly firm squeeze and paused just long enough to press her body flush against his own. Only when her lips were so close to his ear that they brushed against his lobe with every word did she begin to speak. "I've learned a hell of a lot of things, boy. Gimme a few minutes back at my place and I'll relax you even further."

Truman's breath hitched as he leaned back against her, one hand creeping back to grab her hip with an almost punishing grip. "That a fact?"

Rhiannon spun him around, pursing her ruby red lips in anticipation, but when Truman only stared at her with those dilated pupils and that sexy mouth of his she couldn't take it anymore.

That was it. That thrum of excitement bubbled over like a volcano and filled her with more adrenaline than a roller coaster. That was EXACTLY what she was looking for tonight. She tugged at the hem of his sweater and poured every inch of desire as she could into her eyes. "That's a promise."

The cab ride couldn't be any longer if it tried. Rhiannon and Truman battled for dominance in the back seat, hands desperately clawing at skin, lips brushing against every inch already exposed, until the cab driver thought about pulling over and hosing them down.

Truman shoved her into the elevator and pinned her against the wall, attacking her neck until her knees were weak and she was crying out. But when they stumbled out of it on their floor and Rhiannon pulled him toward her room, he held firm.

He kissed her mercilessly for five long minutes right there in the hallway before he finally pulled back, panting for dear life. "Hot damn," he breathed, taking in every inch of her disheveled hair, swollen lips, and love bites before he shook his head. "Rhi-"

"Less talking," she purred, grabbing his hand again. "More kissing."

"No, I can't." Truman pulled his hand back and took a step back, shaking his head harder. "Girl, we ain't even on a date. If that's what you wanted you should've gotten me a hell of a lot more drunk."

Rhiannon stared at him, eyes wide, before the overwhelming desire to sleep with him was quickly replaced with the desire to choke him to death instead. "...are you kidding me?"

Truman looked away, staring at his apartment door.

"You're not serious. There's no way you'd get us that worked up and then just leave it."

"I don't do that shit anymore, all right?" The way he snapped it made her pause, but his tenseness melted out of him as he sighed and rubbed his head. "Look, I'm gonna go take a long shower. I'm gonna think about you the whole damn time." He looked at her knowingly as he tugged his keys out of his pocket. "And I'll call you later this week."

Rhi shook her head and headed for her own apartment. "You're such an ass." She slammed her door behind her before he could respond and sank against it with a frustrated growl.

Cold shower. Right. Maybe that'd help.

------

I'm back, and with a new legacy at that! I might continue my other one, since I just discovered a few chapters I already had written for it, but for now, meet Miss Rhiannon Toft. c:

The rules for Generation One:

Single Parent
Number of children: 4
Primary Income: Movies (Director)
Generation Goal: Fulfilled - Must achieve LTW and every promised wish.
More Fun: Half-Siblings - No two pregnancies or individual adoptions this generation may be with the same partner.

Rhiannon's Traits, etc:

Traits:

Great Kisser
Flirty
Committment Issues
Charismatic
Schmoozer

LTW: Distinguished Director

Rhiannon's a character who I've used in stories and roleplaying for the past year or so, so she's near and dear to my heart. Hope ya'll enjoy how her story develops!