There are numerous restaurants, nightclubs and massage parlours on the street. Soi cowboy off Sukhumvit Rd, Bangkok is host to vibrant night life. Soi Rambuttri. Indonesian statues and figures. Great cocktails Sawasdee House Restaurant ram buttri bangkok.
People talking laughing and enjoying their time Group of friends having fun together. Professional shot in 4K resolution. You can use it e. The alpha cat. The big kahuna! Oh, right — FUN! Hi there! But I love hanging out with the guys, even if they do drive me up the wall from time to time! Oh hi there! No, really — I am! Stop laughing! Haha - made you jump! We just need to work hard and come up with one perfect game or app. Well, Ben does! But seriously — my friends are the best.
Especially Angela… Ahem. But yeah — keep watching the show, guys. And enjoy! The action-packed new endless runner, Talking Tom Gold Run 2, is right around the corner! Join Talking Tom and all his friends as they race through time to stop the evil plan of The Rakoonz. Explore amazing worlds from the past to secure the Time Treasures and save time itself!
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Join Talking Tom and Friends all living together in one amazing house! The best endless runner game! Your new best friend is here!
Have fun with Talking Tom and his new toys, meet his funny pets and try out all the new mini games! Oh no! The show is really good. She feels like a cloud. Like she could just float up, up, up, and blow away. Bill smiles his sweet smile at her once they stop kissing, and as the curtains lower and the audience applauds, Beverly smiles back. She walks off the stage feeling happier than she has in a long time.
Bill is immediately swarmed by his friends and family, including an adorable little boy who must be his brother. Beverly allows herself to stare longingly at them for only five seconds, before she changes out of her costume, thanks Ms. Ferguson, and walks home. Beverly would have once looked upon this scene and felt sympathy, would have felt sorry for her dad.
Beverly quietly cleans up after him. Switches the TV off, throws out the food, carefully takes the can from him and chugs the rest of the lukewarm liquid before throwing it out. She spreads a blanket over his body, cautious in case he wakes up.
As she turns out the light, Beverly decides right then and there that she hates her father, no matter if it kills him or not. She shuts herself in her room, crawls into bed, and falls asleep without eating dinner, dreams of a boy with red hair kissing her, and his friends smiling at her welcomingly. Eleven is not a good age for Beverly.
Last year, in fifth grade, a lady had come to class to lecture the girls about how their bodies were changing. She had mostly talked about stuff that Beverly already knew about, periods and sex and breast growth and pregnancy and how you should never be that, but the woman had also said something that had stood out to Beverly more than anything else: That boys would start noticing these changes, too.
Of course they were going to notice. The last thing she needed was for the other boys to say things, too. Before, in elementary school, Beverly had only been teased by the girls.
Now, the boys do it too. Here is how an average evening at the Marsh household will progress now:. He sneers at her when she comes home from school. She nods and keeps silent, not daring to step out of line. She fetches him a beer. He grabs her arm if she screws up somehow, fingers burning into her skin. She goes to her room and does her homework, fighting the tears threatening to spill, and listens quietly to the radio. She cooks him dinner, always makes his before she makes her own.
He eats in his chair, eyes never leaving the TV. She sits at the table and eats, though she rarely has an appetite. He slaps her, or kicks at her, or something like that, hard enough to bruise.
Maybe he pulls out his belt. She sobs and he sits back down, and then she goes to bed. She hears gross comments at school, sure. But the shit she hears from her dad That shirt shows too much skin, Bevvie.
Your tits are getting big, Bevvie-girl. Better buy a bra, or someone might not be able to control himself. Now, it comes as naturally as taking a breath. And she does it all the time. Before school, in between classes, during classes, after school, on the fire escape of her apartment, outside her bedroom window, around back of the Aladdin.
Beverly steps along the east wall of the building, one of her best spots, making sure that the door shuts quietly behind her before pulling out her lighter. Richie jolts, head shooting up, and fumbles for his glasses before jamming them unceremoniously on his face. Why - Why would I be crying? Beverly raises an eyebrow at Richie, whose nose is leaking snot and whose eyes are very visibly red.
She extends an arm. Beverly slides down in the grass next to him and hands him a cigarette, lighting it, and then her own. She wonders what possible reason Richie could have for feeling that way.
He has two parents, and enough money to get by, and he has friends who like him, even when he annoys them. But, she supposes, everybody has their demons. They sit in silence, smoking until the bell rings for fifth period.
Richie stands, and offers a hand to help Beverly up. Beverly takes it. Richie frowns. At thirteen, Beverly is finally happy with her life, or at least a little bit. Because Bill is there, and her feelings for him are definitely real. Her feelings for Bill are so planned, so boy-meets-girl.
But where Bill is bright lights and daydreams and the heat of the moment, Ben is the opposite. Maybe someday they can sit down and work through it together. Make a night of it. Tissues not provided. Self-doubt in abundance.
In the meantime though, they can smoke Winstons and listen to the radio and crack jokes about all kinds of things. All the time in the world. Except, she sort of does.
She wishes Mike were happy, in the same way that he makes Bev feel. Because God knows he deserves it. And yet, through it all, Mike is still good. Even when people whisper about him when he turns his back, he still greets them politely with a smile on his face.
But he smiles through it all. She also thinks that when she and Richie have their talk, Mike should be there too. Eddie is small, and feisty, and anxious, and loud, and Bev loves him, she really does. By all evidence, Beverly and Eddie should not be friends. I did it to you, Beverly. I just wanted you to know that. Why not? She loves these guys. Bev has a love letter, which means someone cares about her so much that they wrote it down and gave it to her.
She sees it when she gets back from the quarry. Whoever had written it had slipped it into the front pocket of her jeans, and she only notices once she gets home. Oh, oh, oh.
Oh, God. Her heart is thumping, so hard she fears her dad might be able to hear it from all the way down the hall. Her face is pink, and her breathing is shallow, and every one of her nerve endings is on fire. She feels important. She feels seen. But that had been acting, a scene on a stage, and this, this, this is so much more personal. God, she wants it to be Bill. It would make sense if he wrote Bev a poem to tell her how he feels. And, she wants it to be Bill.
She feels so warm inside, so good about herself, which is something she never experiences. She wants to feel this way forever. In reality, she feels this way for five minutes, maybe less, because fate is a cruel bitch. Beverly, come here, it coaxes, and she has no choice but to get closer, peering down into the basin.
Come help us. She goes back into the bathroom, shuts the door softly behind her as if in a trance. She pulls the tape out as far as her arm, and lowers it into the drain. Slowly, carefully, she pulls the tape up again, feeding it back into the mouth of the tape measurer, though she feels more terrified than she ever has in her life.
Just at the end, the tape snags. Catches on something. She wrenches it out of the drain to see that the end of the tape is hooked on some kind of greasy rope. Something hairy, something covered in blood. And the hair suddenly comes to life. Going into Neibolt had been awful. It had been scary as hell, fucking paralyzing, but it had also ripped the Losers apart. And Bev is angry.
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