âHave you ever noticed that Beyonceâs eyebrows are cousins?â He said while sketching the other. "I use to think she was perfect when I was younger, and then I saw her eyebrows. Now, Iâm convinced that there is nothing more perfect than that womanâs flaws.â He stated, glancing at them ever so often. âLike, I really dig the art of everyoneâs face. I can sketch all the imperfections people try to hide, and when I show them how I see them, they usually embrace their natural beauty.â He smiled some, thinking about some of the peopleâs lives he affected just by a sketch. "Hopefully, I can get you to appreciate a side of yourself more once I finish this sketch, and if I donât consider paying me anyway.â He added jokingly.Â
@eastcliffopensâ
âSee you hear that, baby?â Mollie brushed back the hair from her eleven-year-old daughter's face. âEven one of your favorites isnât perfect.â Though her daughter, Layla, still didnât seem to head the manâs words as. she shifted awkwardly, giving Mollie one of those famous stop embarrassing me expressions that just about every pre-teen had in their arsenal. While Layla had pleaded that she didnât want to be drawn, Mollie well, she couldnât pass up the offer. âItâll go right up on the wall at home,â Mollie assured. Her attempts to constantly push her daughterâs hair out of her face had stopped momentarily as Mollie began to shuffle around in her purse and it wasnât just for her wallet. Owning an art gallery had its perks, finding talent was certainly one of them. âSo how long have you been doing this for?â She glanced up to meet. his gaze with a gesture of her free hand to supplies and other sketches out on display.Â
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Nicole peaked through the window of her car, she could see her keys sitting in the cup holder. âStupid, stupid, stupid..â she whispered to herself while pressing her forehead against the glass at lightly banging her head against the window. Pulling on the handle as if out night magically done unlocked. She saw someone out of the corner of her eye. âIâm not stealing the car, though the ability to do that would come in handy right about now, itâs my car.â She explained pointing through the window, âI locked myself out of my car.â
âOh.â Mollie acknowledged as she came to a stop in her tracks. The brown box she held in her arms filled with files shifted awkwardly in an attempt to keep it from falling out of her hands. âWell, even if it wasnât thatâs the best one Iâve heard.â She gave a slight nod as her lips momentarily pressed together. âYeah, no last week this girl told me she was looking for her bunny in my car.â If she believed the blonde woman or not was still up for debate, but her circumstance did leave one pressing question for Mollie, âWhat year is that car? Donât most have keyfobs now? If thatâs the case,â she nodded her head towards the womanâs car. âJust press the button on the door. Opens right up.âÂ
   The girl was mostly an honest person, though there were these hidden layers that got her in trouble some nights. With a couple of drinks in her system, she found herself picking up her old college habits â hustling. Cue stick in hand, she breathed in slowly and focused on the remaining ball. With steady precision, she took her aim. Clank. And just like that, it became all too obvious that this was not her first round of pool. She leaned against her cue stick and smiled at her opponent. âSo, what was that? You owe me twenty dollars now? Beginnerâs luck, I guess.â
âOh, so thatâs how itâs gonna be.â Mollie was unable to guise the smile that tugged at the corners of her lips. An indicator she was clearly impressed by Cheyâs newfound (or not so newfound) talent. âYou know,â her voice became sing-song like as the older of the two leaned her forearm on the wooden cue in her own possession, âif I didnât know any better Iâd say you played this a few times before. But uhh...â Mollie reached for her purse she had placed strategically by one of the pool table legs, away from grabby hands. After a few moments of rummaging through her bag, she pulled out her wallet and a crisp twenty-dollar bill from the side pocket. âI know you wouldnât do something like that to me.â Despite her words, which had been nothing but light-hearted, Mollie handed off the money to her neighbor, but with one caveat. âNow this better go towards your next film. If you keep hustling me I can add it to my resume, film producer.âÂ
It was a sunny California day as Aurora tread along the beach; not too hot, though she had a few strands of hair matted to her face, but clouds were also starting to roll in. She was sure she could finish her walk before the rain would start up. The woman licked at a plain vanilla ice cream cone she held in one hand, her tongue never seeming to keep up with the melted ice cream that wanted to drip on her hand or in the sand. She was overall minding her business, when out of the corner of her eye she caught a glance of a volleyball flying through the air towards her. She gasped as she flung out of the way, the ball narrowly missing her. However, one save ended up creating another catastrophe as her foot caught against an object sitting on the beach and sent her ice cream hurtling into someoneâs lap. âOh, no! Iâm so sorry,â she stammered, suddenly digging through the large tote bag she carried on her arm to see if there was anything they could use to wipe the ice cream off with. âI was trying to avoid some kids and their ball.â  Â
âShit!â A shriek followed the less than formal vocabulary that acknowledged the shock of the cold treat coming to fall on her lap. Maybe Mollie wouldnât have bothered to care if it were any other day, any other time and in any other outfit but it wasnât and now that pure white dress sported a stain, a somewhat yellow-colored, off-white stain that was far too noticeable for Mollie to just let it go and throw her worries away. The sound her chair made as it was pushed back was shrill, a screech across the floor that even made her want to cringe but as she stood with the ice cream effectively falling to the floor, Mollie simply couldnât take her eyes off the state of her dress. âSo you throw ice cream on me instead. Next time go for the kids and their ball. Shit..â she repeated the same phrase as green eyes frantically searched for some type of napkin. âDo you have water or something? I canât be late. I canât go home and change.â And nothing was going as planned. âWe need to fix this. You need to.âÂ
Full Name: Mollie Adelyn Franklin
Nickname(s): Molls, M.
Age: 39
Birthdate: June 7, 1981
Sexuality: Hetero-flexible
Occupation: Art Gallerist
Neighborhood: Coral Reef (formerly Northshore)
(a messy bio can be found below)
Bio:
(tw: death, incarceration)
Mollie was the first child and eldest daughter born to  Colson & Scarlett in San Diego, California. It was a picturesque childhood, the sort that she would later look back at fondly but maybe that was just because she didnât want to remember any of the bad. Sure her mom had beyond high expectations for Mollie, but what mother didnât? She was still the mom a lot of her friends growing up envied and when Mollie became a big sister at nine, well it was just more love to go around, right? Or maybe just more pressure put on their eldest daughter to be more than she already was. But God she would have taken it all back, all the fighting, the breakdowns and need to please her parents again if it meant that she wouldnât lose them at 19.
June 3, 2000, just a few days before her birthday and the last day Colson and Scarlett were supposed to spend on their anniversary vacation was also their last day. They never came home. One scuba diving accident later and two girls were left as orphans.
Fate was cruel for Mollie, but her little sister who was only ten at the time was destined to end up in the system because even at nineteen Mollie wasnât fit to take care of a child, especially with the track record of bad behavior the courts wouldnât have overlooked so easily. So she did what anyone desperate enough to do would, she found a way out. Her attempt to somehow spite her parents in her teen years meant she had questionable friends and those questionable friends knew some questionable people. The type who could help her execute this convoluted lie to place Mollieâs little sister in the care of their grandmotherâŚtheir deceased grandmother.
And twenty years ago to date, Mollie and her little sister arrived in Eastcliff. Chosen with a juvenile tactic of closing their eyes and pointing to the first place they saw on the map. The girls didnât have much if anything at all. Now it could. have been assumed they would have but Mollieâs parents never wrote a will and the courts took everything. Everything but the few items of value Mollie stashed in her backpack to later pawn off for money. (everything but one necklace that belonged to her mother.)
So they were here, Eastcliff, California on a Sunday afternoon seated in front of an ice cream shop with no plan, no place to stay, and strawberry ice cream cones to melt away their troubles. Or lead them directly into trouble. He was young, handsome, and seemed to have all the answers and it all started in an abandoned studio right across the street. An art gallery that was popular in the 60s and 70s but met its demise in the late 80s.
Everything was planned out in his life, he just needed a push. He was gonna make it big, yup a big-time MMA fighter and he was gonna live in a big house in Northshore and never let anyone look down on him again. See, he was a product of the system, but he was also was the only one who gave her answers and that was exactly why Mollie put her trust in him and he put his trust in her. A few friends Benjamin (thatâs his name) had back east were selling paintings, expensive ones, but fake ones. He got Mollie involved and the rest was history.
Years passed and that art gallery became something, a means of living for her and her sister. The guy, Benjamin, he did become something and someone who never left Mollieâs side. The two cared for each other and by the time she was twenty-eight, she became pregnant. Everything really did seem like it was looking up. Ben got that place in Northshore he always wanted and once again Mollie was at his side. They were happy, a picture-perfect family who welcomed home a baby girl named Layla eleven years ago.
tl;dr â Mollie lost both her parents at 19, did some illegal stuff to get custody of her then 10-year-old sister. The girls ran away to Eastcliff (from San Diego) and that is where Mollie met her future baby daddy, right outside her current art gallery, he ended up in jail when their lies caught up to them.Â
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