WALKING ON SUNSHINE --*

[Deleted]

[STYLE=width: 416px; background-color: #DADADA; border: 5px solid #a7a7a7; padding: 5px;] [/style][STYLE=width: 436px; font-family: georgia; font-size: 35px; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: center; margin-top: -9px; letter-spacing: -4px; color: #a7a7a7]IF SOMEONE BELIEVED ME[/style] [STYLE=width: 436px; background-color: #a7a7a7; margin-top: -25px; font-family: Cordia New; font-size: 8px; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: center; letter-spacing: 4px; color: #ffffff]TAGGED: elle as dylan lacey WORDS: 557 NOTES: GOOD TRADE WOOP![/style][STYLE=width: 416px; background-color: #DADADA; border: 5px solid #a7a7a7; padding: 5px; font-family: times new roman; font-size: 11px; color: #555555; text-align: justify; margin-top: 5px; height: 200px; overflow: auto;]With this unique period of Samson's life, he was happy to say that he didn't have too much to worry about. Other than his career, philanthropy, blushing girlfriend, and few complaints from his ex-wife, the man found himself able to adopt a puppy that he had been taking care of at the shelter. He had taken it home for a few stays without committing to keeping Jeremiah. After being with Jeremiah at the shelter for so long without seeing him get adopted, Sam felt like it was meant to be. From the start, the Newfoundland Rottweiler mix got along with Samson. In a way, he reminded him of the dog Samson had kept prior to Jeremiah. Samson was always a dog person. As a child, he had taken care of the family's chocolate lab. When he was a teenager, Samson was given a chocolate lab. Jacques and Jill had passed away since then, though, and now that Samson had encountered his perfect match, he felt inclined to take Jeremiah in. The dog loved the LA apartment and was grateful for a new home.

With the filming of Secret Safe, Samson was swamped. The responsibility was a ridiculous weight on the typically relaxed man's shoulders. A yoga and fitness enthusiast, the man felt like his flow was broken. He was home before he had to come back to filming. Working with Noah Davison as a producer was unlike anything Sam had experienced before. The amount of money available to them was the most Samson had seen in a long time. Of course, as a man who came from money, he wasn't shocked and didn't flaunt it. Before his father's successful restaurant business was started, Gabriel Fletcher was a part of a well-to-do household. Alice Fletcher, on the other hand, came from a lower middle-class town. She worked her way up and into the fashion industry. This combination created an only child named Samson Fletcher, a man who would never be shocked by big money. What made him gape at others was hard work. As a director, he wanted to see people follow directions, focus on safety, and stay drug-free. So far, all was well with Noah's lover and the renowned work of Edward Barrett.

However, Samson's stress was inescapable. He was nervous. Instead of spending his small break in his apartment, he put Jeremiah on a leash and took him to the park. The weather was incredible, for one, though it was at an LA high of 80 degrees. For an August day, it seemed particularly humid. The man loved nature, though, and he had no complaints when it came down to God's choosing. Jeremiah walked along the sidewalk until Samson let him know that they needed to stop. He wasn't afraid of talking to the furry animal. "We have to wait for Dylan," he smiled as they stood by a tree in front of the park sign. Samson looked down to check his phone, an object that he rarely used to communicate with others. He only used it for business -- when necessary -- and to communicate to others that he needed to see them in person. Samson understood technology adequately, but he wasn't a fan of it. "Just a little bit longer," he told Jeremiah as the large dog whined and laid down on the grass. [/style][STYLE=width: 436px; background-color: #a7a7a7; margin-top: 3px; font-family: Cordia New; font-size: 6px; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: center; letter-spacing: 3px; color: #ffffff]MADE BY KEROHOLIC BASED ON CRAYOLA'S TUT OF BTN![/style]

[dylan]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 340px; background-image:url(http://i583.photobucket.com/albums/ss279/legendskseeker/fk5qwnjpg.png); padding: 30px; border: #a0a0a0 solid 30px; ] Starships were meant to fly WORDS 571 OUTFIT CLICK TAGGED: SAM The thirty-two year old, single maiden, Dylan Lacey was everything that a well brought up girl should be, but had been brought up the exact opposite of well-off. Single mother, had raised her to be a hard worker, and enthusiastic about everything that she touched, her kind heart put into everything she did, and had definitely made an impact when it came to caring, if anything she had cared too much about everything. It wasn't until twenties that her money rolled in after her uncle and father had both passed away in a car accident down in Texas. By then she was already a sophomore in college, and though she'd never had a relationship with her father, it still hurt that her own flesh and blood was now gone. It wasn't until the lawyers came that she knew the large amounts of money that her father and his family were sitting on. While her uncle had never married and had no children to be known of, he said all of his inheritance to be sent to his younger brother, which just happened to die days after the accident, long enough for the money to be received. Once the money hit the hands of her father, in his living will, all of his belongings would be given to his only child if anything were to happen to him. He had offered no relationship or even a birthday card, but the large amount of money was unforeseeable. She'd hit the jackpot. It had been painful to bury the man she hardly knew, his name and stories spoken by other close friends, his very young wife that had expected the money to go her way, had been cold, unwelcoming. Hadn't even known that he had a child, what a slap to the face finding out her father had a wife younger than she was. While money was a thing she was still getting used to, she put her wealthy and hard work behind movies, one of the things she felt most passionate about, true love stories, dramas that left movie goers happy when the movie let out. Happy endings like everyone secretly wanted. She had plans to meet a friend of hers, Samson Fletcher, a director. It seemed that directors and producers loved to make friends with each other, the more money that a movie could be backed with the more successful the movie would be in the turn around and would bring more money back, sometimes even doubling the original price of the film and the expectations of everyone. After getting ready, she hopped into her limo meeting her good looking friend at the park. He had mentioned he had a surprise for her, and when she walked up to the man, she was instantly surprised by the large furry dog on a leash next to him, who she had known as Jeremiah from talking to him, "You adopted him?" she said excitedly, a large smile filling her blue eyes, a certain sparkle that only she could muster, "That's so great!" she said dipping down, careful to keep herself covered, she pet the dog on its own level, "You are so adorable!" she told Jeremiah in a baby voice, it was true, one did not simply talk to a dog in a normal voice. She looked at the gentlemen that stood next to the furry animal, "This is such a great idea!" she told him, kissing the dog on the top of it head before standing straight, she was an animal lover by nature, but had yet to adopt and animal for herself, yet, Sam had been trying to convince her she needed one, and she was almost positive he was right, she smiled at him, kindly, her crush on Sam had come quick and passed just as quickly, she was even happy for his new found happiness, but a ping of jealousy flooded her, hoping she too would be able to find someone to fill the emptiness her life had. Hands up, and touch the sky

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[STYLE=width: 416px; background-color: #DADADA; border: 5px solid #a7a7a7; padding: 5px;] [/style][STYLE=width: 436px; font-family: georgia; font-size: 35px; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: center; margin-top: -9px; letter-spacing: -4px; color: #a7a7a7]IF SOMEONE BELIEVED ME[/style] [STYLE=width: 436px; background-color: #a7a7a7; margin-top: -25px; font-family: Cordia New; font-size: 8px; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: center; letter-spacing: 4px; color: #ffffff]TAGGED: elle as dylan lacey WORDS: 581 NOTES: GOOD TRADE WOOP![/style][STYLE=width: 416px; background-color: #DADADA; border: 5px solid #a7a7a7; padding: 5px; font-family: times new roman; font-size: 11px; color: #555555; text-align: justify; margin-top: 5px; height: 200px; overflow: auto;]Samson was a judgmental man by nature, but he respected Dylan Lacey, and it all made sense. She was strong, modest, and kind-hearted. The two were far more alike than Samson had expected. In the movie business, it was safe to say that most of the people were in it for the money or the fame. With Dylan, movies were about making happy endings real for others. Their friendship made sense to him: they wanted to better the world. Maybe a part of why he liked Dylan so much was because she was the kind of person Delilah should have become. At one point, she had been just as gentle and cute as someone like Dylan. As time went on, however, Samson’s former wife had shifted and become a sinister creature. His love for her was eternal and impossible to conceal, but he could see what a bad person wanted out of life versus what Dylan Lacey was.

”Look, Jeremiah!” Samson exclaimed, pointing at Dylan. The dog enthusiastically licked her face, familiar with her. Samson and Dylan volunteered together at times, and she was just as ardent an animal lover as Sam. He was all about helping others. A philanthropist and French heir, he had the heart and deep pockets necessary to make a change in the city. Although he enjoyed feeding money into charities of his choice, nothing was more meaningful than devoting his precious time to his favorite causes. The soup kitchen saw his face often, though he made sure that no one could treat Samson like a famous director. He was just like them when he wasn’t on the job. Other than the NYU students that stopped by to visit him, fans didn’t come around often. In the movie industry, directors weren’t exactly recognized by their faces. Apparently, gossip magazines liked to gush about his looks, but it was something that he didn’t’ really take note of. In France, he used to be more of a celebrity. An ex-soccer star, Samson was used to being in front of a camera and dealing with paparazzi. In comparison, being a director was a piece of cake.

She smiled at him, but it wasn’t enough. Samson promptly approached her and traditionally kissed both of her cheeks lightly, a French tradition that had not yet left the thirty-one-year-old Frenchman. ”You look so happy,” he said, touching her arm lightly with his free hand. His green eyes were sincere. He was happy to see Dylan. Considering the circumstances in his life, he was lucky to have loyal friends like Dylan. After the divorce, he and Delilah had diverged in moral code, life goals, and which friends they would keep around. Delilah got to keep most of the females, of course, while Samson had the guys on his side. Some friends were simply lost, unable to deal with the frequent arguments between the two and could not decide who to stay in touch with. Dylan, however, was one of the few people who Samson knew would never leave his side. During the tough times in her life, he found himself being a large part of her recovery. He wanted to be there for someone as deserving as she.

Samson began to walk with Jeremiah, who was almost dragging him along in excitement. The park was crowded, as usual, but being outside was worth the noise. ”What have you been up to, Miss Dylan?” he asked her, his French accent refreshing in the sunny weather.
[/style][STYLE=width: 436px; background-color: #a7a7a7; margin-top: 3px; font-family: Cordia New; font-size: 6px; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: center; letter-spacing: 3px; color: #ffffff]MADE BY KEROHOLIC BASED ON CRAYOLA'S TUT OF BTN![/style]

[dylan]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 340px; background-image:url(http://i583.photobucket.com/albums/ss279/legendskseeker/fk5qwnjpg.png); padding: 30px; border: #a0a0a0 solid 30px; ] Starships were meant to fly WORDS 713 NOTES: MUSE! TAGGED: SAM It was true, Dylan and Sam's friendship went far back, dating before the divorce between Delilah and him, though she'd always been despite to find love, she could go a million years without going through what that woman had put him through. She gladly took her place at his side, being there whenever he needed her. She turned out to be a better friend than she'd ever expected to be, especially since she couldn't get past his eyes when they first met, and fell disappointed the moment she'd spotted a wedding band.. The thought of a divorce would typically push hope into the brunette, but all she felt was his pain, ripping through her, the look of sadness on his face crushing her like tidal waves over and over again, her body the rocks, clashing. She, like those rocks, refused to be pulled away from the sand. In Someways, he'd become like a home to her. Over time, he'd returned the favor over and over again, holding onto her as she cried tears of shame, yet another heart break, another disappointment. She allowed the mixed breed give her kisses upon her face, she couldn't help but giggle. Dogs were so genuine when it came to meet and greets. Animals were like that, they depended on their owners, and loved without judgement, there was nothing to be proved, just unconditional love. "Jeremiah you are so precious, is Sam treating you right?" she asked him, knowing from shared experience from their volunteer work that the dog would be spoiled rotten and was in amazing, capable hands, if anything being abandoned would be turned into the best case scenario for that dog. She nodded, blushing lightly, truth was she was happy. Though without rhyme or reason, she'd felt great for days, "I am." she said kindly, with a gentle, settle shrug. Kissing both of her cheeks, she made smooches, aiming for his cheeks as well as he danced from one side to another. It was a behavior she'd come accustomed to with her dear friend, a french man by nature, the European qualities running deep in his veins, it was a quality she loved, in a city that seemed to have so many copies of another version of person. He was different and she admired him for so many reasons, simple thought and careful listing could not count near all the things that she loved about him. Upon parting, she smiled sweetly, she had the look of innocence about her, the began to walk, inches apart, the dog on a leash out in front of them, attempting to sniff every bush that was on the sides of the walk way they'd met on. "Well.." she started, I'm about to leave for a few weeks for Seattle, The Choice is set to start filming soon, she said biting her lip. Truth was, work made her feel like waking up alone might not be so bad, at least she had something to look forward to, "Excited to see how that film comes together," she said, giving a little wrinkle to her nose as she looked at her friend sheepishly, The cast is gonna be amazing." she gushed, the look of awe like she was talking about a dreamy romance between herself and someone she loved. It was true, because of the loneliness she had in her love life, she'd become married to her work. "And what about you?" she asked giving Sam a light elbow to the side, "How are things with you?" she said feeling happiness running through her, like flashes of candle light. He may be only her friend, but he was the only solid male she'd had in her whole life. Sad to say that he was the only one she truly could count on. Her trouble with men rooted from her inability to get over the fact that her father was never around. Males of any kind were always welcome with full sprung smile, she'd always wanted them to stick around, and was heart broken when they too had left her behind like her father, it had become a vicious cycle, one that Samson had known all too well, always there to pick her up from her lows, she owed him all her success. Hands up, and touch the sky

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[Deleted]

[STYLE=width: 416px; background-color: #DADADA; border: 5px solid #a7a7a7; padding: 5px;] [/style][STYLE=width: 436px; font-family: georgia; font-size: 35px; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: center; margin-top: -9px; letter-spacing: -4px; color: #a7a7a7]IF SOMEONE BELIEVED ME[/style] [STYLE=width: 436px; background-color: #a7a7a7; margin-top: -25px; font-family: Cordia New; font-size: 8px; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: center; letter-spacing: 4px; color: #ffffff]TAGGED: elle as dylan lacey WORDS: 588 NOTES: AHHH[/style][STYLE=width: 416px; background-color: #DADADA; border: 5px solid #a7a7a7; padding: 5px; font-family: times new roman; font-size: 11px; color: #555555; text-align: justify; margin-top: 5px; height: 200px; overflow: auto;]Samson chuckled at the question Dylan asked Jeremiah. The two of them knew that Samson was going to be a fine caretaker for the mutt. Unable to have children, Samson was caring and loving to all to compensate for his inability to produce offspring. Yes, this disadvantage had certainly caused some rocky parts of his divorce, but he had learned a great deal about it. To Samson, there was something undeniable valuable about going through struggle. Without the luxury of the capability of passing down his French genes, he had learned the lesson of parenthood from afar. His vision wasn't blurred. Now that he could see most flaws in parents, he could promise himself that he could raise a kid if he kept his head on straight. The kid would turn out without too much psychological damage. The more he thought about it, though, the less likely it became to have children. Now that he and Radoslav, his girlfriend's son, were getting along, however, it seemed foolish to want much more.

Samson recognized the look in Dylan's eyes as the gushed about her newest project. Samson was also one for love stories. He remembered various dates after his divorce with Delilah and how none of them worked out the way he had anticipated. He patted his friend's arm with a knowing look. "Love sought is good, but given unsought is better." Shakespeare flowed easily from the thirty-one-year-old's lips. "Si seulement nous savions..." He shook his head sadly as he made sure he had a grip on his new dog's leash. As much as he hated constraining the canine, he didn't feel comfortable with Jeremiah roaming in such a busy place without reinforcements. It seemed ironic to him that he had to keep the dog in captive just to make sure he was safe and sound. Samson had no idea what he would do with himself if something were to happen to the rescued dog and didn't want to think of the day when Jeremiah passed away.

Samson whistled absently as they reached an opening in the field. He pointed, grinning at the game of frisbee that was going on. When Dylan questioned him, he was glad to answer. "Everything has been great. Always." Samson wanted to have an optimistic outlook on life, even when it was all falling apart. "I mean, Delilah hasn't been messing with anything. I'm with a lovely woman. I have a new child -- dog -- to take care of... I'm a lucky man." His eyes drifted to the frisbee once again, and Jeremiah watched it from the shade of the tree. After a few moments, a sharp tug brought the man to the ground. In his khaki shorts and Vibrams, the man fell flat on the floor for a moment before picking himself up. When the dog gave another jerk to reach the frisbee that was now getting closer to the ground, Samson collapsed again. This time, he laughed. He didn't mind getting a little bit dirty. What he did mind, though, was the fact that the dog was getting away.

"Blargh" was the interjection Samson used when he realized that he was in a losing battle. Jeremiah would come back, yes, but he was about to collide with a young woman who was playing a game of frisbee with her own dog, evidently a golden retriever. "Dylan! Help!" he cried with an uncontrollable laugh. He didn't waste time on brushing his clothes off as he chased after the massive ball of fur.
[/style][STYLE=width: 436px; background-color: #a7a7a7; margin-top: 3px; font-family: Cordia New; font-size: 6px; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: center; letter-spacing: 3px; color: #ffffff]MADE BY KEROHOLIC BASED ON CRAYOLA'S TUT OF BTN![/style]

[dylan]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 340px; background-image:url(http://i583.photobucket.com/albums/ss279/legendskseeker/fk5qwnjpg.png); padding: 30px; border: #a0a0a0 solid 30px; ] Starships were meant to fly WORDS 713 NOTES: MUSE! TAGGED: SAM It had been a great burden for Sam to accept that he couldn't have children, but even as he grew to accept it, he never seemed angry about it, even as it was unfortunate. It was a quality that Dylan loved about her dear friend. How he always a positive way to approach everything, it made it so easy for her to want to be around him. It was a chance of luck that the two of them had even crossed path, and with such an impact he'd made in her life, she couldn't simply walk away from the growing fondness for the man. Even as their work kept them quite busy, she always took the time to keep in touch, and he'd returned the favor. It was a beautiful thing that had been created, a friendship completely pure, created out of the a pairs willingness to commit to allowing the other into their life. It was the closest thing she'd had to a relationship, and even as she watched his heart break and the fall of faith for him, to his new found romance, she'd always tried her best to comfort him whenever he needed that helping hand or shoulder. If he needed to speak freely, he could always rest assured that it would stay between the pair. "mmm.." she said closing her eyes as his french accent rolled its way through the Shakespeare quote. Everything that he said always sounded better than her classy southern accent could ever. "I love the way you speak." she teased him. No matter how many times she hung out with him, it was always a comment she always made her rounds to point out. "Your accent is so beautiful." she told her friend over and over again during every greeting, this time was no different. "I'm so glad to hear that." she said sweetly, their slow paced walk, hardly moving at all, "You deserve to be happy." she soothed him, meaning every bit of it. Everyone did after all, but because of how close they had become, she thought he did so too, especially for his kindness and compassion. Not everyone got to see that side of him, and it was a shame. "You are lucky indeed." she finally said, her hair was in long ringlets like always, bouncing as she nodded her head. He'd drawn the short straw with his situation with his first wife, but he'd definitely hit the lottery with his second chance for love. Upon her friend unexpectedly falling onto the dirt, she looked wide eyed, dropping to help him up, only to have him fall again, and she started to laugh with him, "Jeremiah!" she shouted after the dog. Her short legs taking off at a slow pace, in the direction of the Frisbee and the woman with her own dog, much smaller than Jeremiah. She continued to shout the dogs name, as she approached, the dogs seemed to be uninterested in each other, which was a relief and the woman was not scared, as she held onto the returned disk, her dog had gotten to quicker than the long legged mutt Sam had brought. "Sorry!" she told the lady as Jeremiah sat staring at the blue plastic in the slender woman's hand, Sam was quick on her heels and the two of them reached the dog seconds apart. Hands up, and touch the sky

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[Deleted]

[STYLE=width: 416px; background-color: #DADADA; border: 5px solid #a7a7a7; padding: 5px;] [/style][STYLE=width: 436px; font-family: georgia; font-size: 35px; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: center; margin-top: -9px; letter-spacing: -4px; color: #a7a7a7]IF SOMEONE BELIEVED ME[/style] [STYLE=width: 436px; background-color: #a7a7a7; margin-top: -25px; font-family: Cordia New; font-size: 8px; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: center; letter-spacing: 4px; color: #ffffff]TAGGED: elle as dylan lacey WORDS: 531 NOTES: YEY<3[/style][STYLE=width: 416px; background-color: #DADADA; border: 5px solid #a7a7a7; padding: 5px; font-family: times new roman; font-size: 11px; color: #555555; text-align: justify; margin-top: 5px; height: 200px; overflow: auto;]Samson was an even-tempered person and had a hard time understanding most people who lashed out at certain situations. Dylan was the kind of person who he came to when he wanted some real advice. Of course, his definition of "real" was "optimistic." She always knew what to say. When he had lost his faith in God, she had been the one to tell him that everything was going to be okay. He could easily attribute a piece of his spirituality to his dear friend. She had a way of reminding him that all things occurred for a reason and vice versa. "I think I love your accent more. Less spit," Samson joked momentarily. French people had a reputation for spitting or using the backs of their throats to speak the unique language. "Yours is so... welcoming." The southern accent was one of his favorites. Of course, she didn't have a redneck vernacular, just a cute southern drawl that made him slow down just a bit from the city rush. As much as he loved the industry, Samson Fletcher was not a city boy by nature.

Samson nodded. "Maybe Siana is the one," he said, daydreaming a bit once again. He turned to Dylan. He felt odd for talking about himself for such a prolonged period of time. "Why aren't you telling me about the most recent man you have been dating? I am sure they have been chasing after you." He grinned at her cheekily. Samson was no jokester, but he liked to loosen up around Dylan. There was nothing to lose when she wasn't judgmental and he didn't have to worry about offending her. She understood that he never aimed to insult others. "I am waiting for you to eat lunch with me one day and surprise me with an engagement ring." He was half-serious. Dylan was the type to get into a whirlwind romance. She had a romantic mind that was almost always in the clouds. Samson was also an avid romantic, but he could see past his hands where she couldn't. She was far more idealistic. Then again, she hadn't married Delilah.

Samson was out of breath as he jogged toward Dylan and Jeremiah. Still fit, he was able to catch up with his short-legged friend in a matter of seconds. He once played soccer as a French celebrity athlete, a known fact in his home country. Now that it was a decade behind him, he was less recognizable to people back home. He still looked back on those days with some bitter feelings, however. Losing his soccer career to an injury had not been in the book. He used those old skills to his advantage when he could, though, and he made sure to grab Jeremiah's leash before he could run anywhere else. "So sorry," he told the slender woman as she laughed at Dylan and Samson in their frantic states of mind. He looked at Dylan. "Thank you," he huffed. The two walked to the sidewalk and continued on their way. "I can't imagine what it would be like to have a real kid running around," he mulled. He grinned at her and patted Jeremiah.
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