Royally Whipped

Woodland Creature

FINN POV

I don't trust my eyes when I see something beautiful walk up to the beach. I'm sitting on a rock, throwing

stones into the water and wondering about my pathetic life. The thing is a she and she's got pretty blonde hair, with the sexiest shape I've seen even in that sunny dress and strappy sandals. She looks like a woodland creature, sprung up from the sand and entering into my vision. She's like nature in its finest.

She kicks her feet against the sand a couple of times before sitting on one of the swings on the beach, pushing herself with her feet, high into the air, she comes down, and she pushes again- She appeared to be reading a novel. The creature loves to read. I'm sure she has a name and it'll be a beautiful one, so I don't have to call her woodland creature all the time. I wish to meet her but don't want to disturb her happy moment.

She seemed to be enthralled by the book because she smiled sometimes, kept a sad face, and even laughed. The wave carried the sound over to me and I couldn't help but love it. This was what I'd imagined while I was back home. I on the beach relaxing and a beautiful southern girl comes up to me and we talk for hours. I wouldn't have daydreamed about any woman just like that. But this one, something was appealing about her.

I watch as she gets up from the swing and starts walking away. Should I go after her, introduce myself and tell her she's pretty? Nah, she'll probably think I'm a creep. I'm sure there are lots of those guys on the beach.

When I see the sun setting in the far distance, I walk myself back to my condo. It's a big house planted by the beach and it's in a perfect area. The houses have a lot of space between them, it's filled with rich people, so everyone minding their business. Best of all, there's no way the paps would find me here. St Petes beach has got to be one of the most remote islands in Florida. No wonder I picked it.

I'm on the run from not just the Paps but my family which I'm assuming the paps are working for. My mother would go to any length to have her way, including marrying her only son to some girl he'd never met before. Maybe met once or twice but still not enough to be wearing rocks on our fingers. Yes, that prince is me. My dad died years ago, so I don't even have a father figure that can try to understand me, it could turn to.

A year ago, my sister got married to a Caribbean prince who owns multi-hotels, resorts, and five yachts. It was an arranged marriage of course, and done by mother with a sole purpose she said is em-bettering our future.

Then mother brought up the absurd topic of me getting married. At first, I thought she was kidding but after that announcement of my engagement, I knew she was up to something. Having me be present at social gatherings and carrying out princely duties was all part of her damn plan.

The air inside my condo is cooler and relaxed, I go into the kitchen and grab a jug of fruit punch, pouring myself a glass. Drinking the tropical juice was like Havana. My phone beeped with a message.

Feeling good?

It was my friend Alba. A childhood friend that refused to leave me even when I used to annoy the hell out of him as a kid by breaking his pencils and stealing all his girlfriends. Now, he's the one that annoys me. Alba is also the only one who knows about me being here in Florida and I know he won't disclose my location to anyone. I haven't yet seen it on the news that I'm missing and I know it's my mom trying to cover the scandal up as much as she can. But knowing the paps, they're digging into this.

Yeah. Better than ever. Turns out all I needed was a quick break. I text back.

Good for you, found any southern girl yet? (wink).

I grin, wanting to tell Alba about the girl at the beach but even I don't know her enough to description, so I just reply with mind your f*****g business. He texts back a couple of seconds later with a laughing emoji.

How's Home? I ask him and drop the phone on the counter so I could grab a stool and sit. I succeed with the mission in time to see Alba's text come in.

Good. Your mom's losing her mind though. And Anna is worried about you.

Anna. My sister, the one I said got married to a Caribbean prince last year. She's my f*****g solitude and the reason I hadn't left home years ago. But with her gone, I knew I could finally do it. I get another text from him.

You do plan to come back right?

Of course. But not now, Alba. I need a break. I reply with a sigh. The last few months have been hell for me.

Sure, sure. So what you doing tonight. I could fly down if you need company.

Shit! The last thing I want is my mom tracking Alba and his flight to know where I am. Normally, she'd suspect something is up. I rarely travel alone. It's either I'm with a woman, or with Alba on trips. On the other hand, Alba hates to travel, my mom knows that too and that's a hole in my pocket.

No need, bro. I'm good. I'll probably just hang out at a bar or something. I text.

Sure, sure. Have fun.

Yeah, thanks.

I drop my phone on the counter, exiting the kitchen to my bedroom. Every second I spend in this house makes me fall in love with it, the interior decor is so modern and neatly arranged. The bedroom is the best even, with bamboo stick-like curtains the seemed to have waves on them. There's a great view of the beach from the ceiling-to-floor window.

Dark Jeans and a plain shirt sounded like a good fashion idea to wear out, especially since it's a bar I'm going to. Somehow, a part of me hopes I see the blonde lady from earlier. St Petes beach is small and like I've also heard, the folks usually hung out at Lima bar on Thursdays for some festival night or some s**t. Lima bar is like one of the best bars around here and it gets festive a lot.

I drive a rented modern Toyota to Lima and when I get there, I find the place a bit too crowded. Outside, it's a dancing mess with old jazz music sounding through large speakers set out, couples are dancing, some teens are gossiping about something, a group of boys playing pong. It seemed livelier being here than at home, where all I knew was the cold, expensive parties, and lazy hookups.

I press my way through the crowd and about entering the bar, I see the blonde lady from earlier today. She looked different, not in a summer dress, her hair flowing down her back or glasses on. Instead, she was wearing a pair of jeans short, cropped checkered red and white shirt that revealed her stomach, black sandals, and her hair packed up. And she was serving beers. Something about her whole get-up just sent a surging want for her through my veins. My woodland creature.