The Truth About Shoes

The Truth About Shoes

Status: Finished

Genre: Other

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Other

Summary

....THE TRUTH ABOUT SHOES Can you remember your first pair of shoes? Maybe, maybe not. Okay then can you remember your favourite pair of shoes? Each time you went past the shop, did they sit in the front display, your eyes drawn to the glittery straps? Or maybe it was a pair of training shoes that- and you knew this, you just had to convince your parents- would make you run just that bit faster and be jubilant in your success. As time goes by, you are earning your own money. Now you can buy the peep-toe courts with the ridiculously high heels. It is a months' wage from your first job, but you don't care because you have wanted them for so long. One day, month, or perhaps several years later you are looking through your wardrobe for something, and in the bottom there it sits, a bit dusty, so you brush off the top and pull out the box. And there they are, that favourite pair of shoes that you could not live without. Did they make you run faster? Did you have the night of your life? What do you mean, you can't remember? You wanted them so much...................... The truth about shoes really is that, just like relationships, what you thought you really wanted at first doesn't always work out and just leaves you in pain and plasters. Whereas the sensible flatties your mother suggested do actually stand the test of time. But where's the glitter? Who wants to admit to their mother she was right? Follow in the footsteps of a group of old schoolfriends through their lives, loves and passion for footwear in whatever form it may take.

Summary

....THE TRUTH ABOUT SHOES

Can you remember your first pair of shoes? Maybe, maybe not. Okay then can you remember your favourite pair of shoes? Each time you went past the shop, did they sit in the front display, your eyes drawn to the glittery straps? Or maybe it was a pair of training shoes that- and you knew this, you just had to convince your parents- would make you run just that bit faster and be jubilant in your success. As time goes by, you are earning your own money. Now you can buy the peep-toe courts with the ridiculously high heels. It is a months' wage from your first job, but you don't care because you have wanted them for so long.

One day, month, or perhaps several years later you are looking through your wardrobe for something, and in the bottom there it sits, a bit dusty, so you brush off the top and pull out the box.
And there they are, that favourite pair of shoes that you could not live without. Did they make you run faster? Did you have the night of your life? What do you mean, you can't remember? You wanted them so much......................

The truth about shoes really is that, just like relationships, what you thought you really wanted at first doesn't always work out and just leaves you in pain and plasters. Whereas the sensible flatties your mother suggested do actually stand the test of time.

But where's the glitter?

Who wants to admit to their mother she was right?

Follow in the footsteps of a group of old schoolfriends through their lives, loves and passion for footwear in whatever form it may take.

Chapter1 (v.1) - The Truth About Shoes

Author Chapter Note

....THE TRUTH ABOUT SHOES Can you remember your first pair of shoes? Maybe, maybe not. Okay then can you remember your favourite pair of shoes? Each time you went past the shop, did they sit in the front display, your eyes drawn to the glittery straps? Or maybe it was a pair of training shoes that- and you knew this, you just had to convince your parents- would make you run just that bit faster and be jubilant in your success. As time goes by, you are earning your own money. Now you can buy the peep-toe courts with the ridiculously high heels. It is a months' wage from your first job, but you don't care because you have wanted them for so long. One day, month, or perhaps several years later you are looking through your wardrobe for something, and in the bottom there it sits, a bit dusty, so you brush off the top and pull out the box. And there they are, that favourite pair of shoes that you could not live without. Did they make you run faster? Did you have the night of your life? What do you mean, you can't remember? You wanted them so much...................... The truth about shoes really is that, just like relationships, what you thought you really wanted at first doesn't always work out and just leaves you in pain and plasters. Whereas the sensible flatties your mother suggested do actually stand the test of time. But where's the glitter? Who wants to admit to their mother she was right? Follow in the footsteps of a group of old schoolfriends through their lives, loves and passion for footwear in whatever form it may take.

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: July 12, 2013

Reads: 416

Comments: 1

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Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: July 12, 2013

A A A

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Prologue  - According to Gloria

 

 

Hannah turns to Raffy and nudges her none too gently.

'Look, Raf, there he is. Talk to him. Go on, you've wanted to speak to him for ages, and he was seeing that brassy blonde. I don't see her next to him, so go on, now is your chance.'

Raffy peers across the room, her dark hair brushing Hannah's face. In the crowded bar it is amazing her friend can see anyone she recognises.

The music changes, with a small cheer  from their group. Sarah's demands that they all came out tonight – to help her get over Lewis - have met with a mixed response from her friends. But a night out is a night out. Hearing Gloria Gaynor singing about survival, along with many generous measures of vodka, appear to be doing the trick. The poor heartbroken girl they had all sat with that morning is far removed from the all-singing, all-dancing – if a little intoxicated – vixen who had sashayed her way into the bar and demanded her first double not more than twenty minutes ago.

The afternoon has passed in a flash of plastic, store cards and carrier bags, containing vital components of a special 'getting over you' night. The push-up bra and matching thong, a low cut strappy top, short denim skirt.  High high stilettos, that she will most likely never wear again, already blisters are starting to form on her heels, and she winces, as she moves to the music, downing her drink.

She looks around, quite a few of her friends have come tonight, she knows she can always count on them for support. Sarah watches Hannah whispering to Raffy, then sees her gesture across the bar, where a group of lads stand laughing amongst themselves.

 

Interesting. As Gloria manages to convince the crowd in the bar that she will survive, the song comes to an end. Before the beginning of the next, Sarah has made the decision that by the end of that night she will be in the arms of the guy with the brown T-shirt. Not so much brown, as chocolate.

Mmm, chocolate for her to simply melt into. He has cropped fair hair, and a good sign, he is smiling and laughing. For ages now, Lewis and Sarah have not laughed, well Lewis has laughed. At Sarah, not with her. Sadly the jokes have worn thin now, and Lewis has found his amusement in the arms of Niamh. Sarah is sure she has seen them together. Niamh likes new shoes, she has more pairs than Sarah. It won't last, but still it hurts. Sarah pulls a face, and it is no coincidence that at this moment her blister bursts.

 

Martyna, Sarah's mate, has seen her sister Camilla and is unaware that she is being watched by Mr Chocolate-T-Shirt and his friends.  A raucous laugh makes her look up and straight at Chocolate himself. He smiles and she quickly looks away. Camilla has not even noticed that her sisters' attention has waned and carries on talking. Martyna attempts to catch up with the flow of words, spoken in the native tongue. Camila does this when she has too much to drink, and the older girl knows she will have to keep an eye on her. She looks over to the lads and he is still watching her. She smiles and once more looks away to where her friends are in deep discussion over what drink they should have next.  She rejoins the girls as an order is put in for more wine, and the barman chuckles as he turns to reach the bottle from the fridge. They all flirt with him, thinking their lines are original, but it is a scene replayed regularly. To no avail. His attention is elsewhere, and it is all he can do to get the orders right. It is turning out to be the longest night ever and just watching is the sweetest torture.

 

Naomi is perched a little precariously on the bar stool, her skirt taught across her thighs, legs showing slight streaks from a combination of cheap fake tan and the rain that  began to fall as they  waited in the queue to get into the bar. Not so much the rain still falling as the puddles from the rain already fallen. That bloke had purposefully driven through the puddle, seeing her stood on the kerb. But it is not going to ruin her night. Besides, it's quite dark inside. If it was up to her, she would have gone somewhere else – queueing to get into a bar just seems daft and a complete waste of time. Now they are in and her eyes have adjusted, it's alright. The barman isn't too tough on the eye, but a big part of her hopes they will move on soon. She doesn't get out much and wants to make the most of it. She checks her mobile, no missed calls, but one text. Flicking through the menu, she scans the message.

 

'R U There yt?' a strange mixture of text speak and full length words. She shakes her head. One day he may learn to text properly. She can picture him now, laid on the sofa, Hollie in his arms. The closest to multitasking he will ever get. The bottle laying empty on the lounge floor, television playing away to itself, Gary Lineker extolling the virtues of the offside rule to no-one in particular.

 

Ash is aware of her eyes burning into the back of his head and turns to see her, watching him. She  is dark, and her long hair is in waves around her bare neck, the strap on her left shoulder has slipped and her right hand rises quickly to pull it back, as she notices him looking at her. He'd seen her earlier. But it is her friend, the one with the curly bobbed hair, who has caught his attention. Not so much her hair, as her blue eyes, he can see that there is a definite sparkle in them, even through the subdued light in the bar. He wants to see her laugh, make those eyes twinkle in amusement. How little time it has taken him to get over Caroline, but not as quickly as Caroline seems to have gotten over him. He has heard she has been out with several guys since. His mate James has wanted a date with her for ages. Ash recalls vaguely the conversation thread.

 

'You know Caroline? I was at school with her, but I don't think she noticed me. She works in the shoe shop a couple of doors down from Dad's bakery.

 

'Caroline and I went out a couple of times, but it's over now. Just ask her, mate.'

 

A smashing sound, much too close for his comfort, causes him  to look down towards his feet, and he steps away from the shards of glass that cover the floor around him and his mates. Brandon  is drunk again.

 

Raffy taps Hannah on the shoulder and together they cross to the stairs leading up to the toilets.

'Best go before the queue gets too long, I've queued too many times today.'

'Me too, blokes just don't get this do they? I was about to ask what they did to avoid this hassle, but it's more what they don't do I guess. It's like being back at school, isn't it?'

'Never mind that. Did you see him looking at you?'

 

'Who was looking at you? Having a good time girls?' Sarah is behind them, and Raffy is about to fill her in but something in Hannah's sideway look warns her not to, and she changes the subject.

 

'How about you Sarah? This doing the trick? Got your eye on Lewis mark two yet?'

Sarah looks at her two friends and decides it is not yet time to reveal her next victim. Oh - did she say victim? Perhaps a nicer way of phrasing this could be to call him her beau, because she has her arrow ready.

 

 


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