Howdy everyone!!!!
It's been ages since Zoe or I posted a story here, but here you go Chapter 1 of From the streets, you can read ahead by far on our Patreon, enjoy!!!

-Ashleigh and Zoe

An older man stood in a large sky office, surrounded by young people in their mid to late 20s, a few even in their early 30s, “I hate this, but I’m going to put this on the table.” He exuded power, but there were rumors that one of the photographers at the table outranked him.

“I’m going to give a $25,000 bonus to any of you who find us the next face. We need someone fresh, never seen before.”

A woman in her late 20s, dressed in a nice pantsuit looked thoughtfully at her briefcase for a moment. She brushed a few strands of strawberry blonde hair from her face and opened it. “I just got back from vacation, but how about this girl?” she asked, in a tone that vaguely suggested Irish heritage, tempered by living in California for several years.

she threw down some pictures of a young girl with shaggy reddish blonde hair, and the most beautiful blue eyes. They seemed to sparkle at the camera even if she didn't look like she knew she was being photographed. She looked pretty shabby overall, actually, like she hadn’t showered in a few days.

“Shower her and give her some food, and I think she’d clean up nicely,” she added as the man took the photographs and flipped through them. Katelyn had been with the company from its inception, originally as a talent scout, turn photographer. She had a very keen eye.

Drew sat back in his big chair, still examining the pictures. Everyone else sighed inwardly. They knew they might be out the bonus. As he got the last picture of the girl, he looked up, “Where’d you find her?”

“Galway Ireland,” Katelyn answered. “There’s lots of urchins like that about, sadly.”

“Do you think you can find her again?” Drew asked.

“Kids like that.” Amanda, younger than Katelyn, and a lighter shade of blonde, but just as ambitious, and what’s more, a close friend of hers, spoke up, “They usually stick around the same place, easier to make money and stay safe hustling tourists. I can find her.”

“Good, Katelyn take Amanda with you. Go find her,” Drew said as he stood back up, tossing the pictures on the table, “We found our new face.”

“How much am I authorized to offer her?” Katelyn asked. Drew gave her a knowing smile and tossed a platinum card on the table near the two.

“Spend whatever you think will win her over, and offer her the world if you have to.” He grinned even more. If he could grin any more, his mouth would fall off his face. If it were a cartoon, his eyes would just be dollar signs. “I want those blue eyes on the cover of every fashion magazine from here to Milan.”

“So,” Amanda said as she picked up her designer handbag, “What are you going to spend your bonus on?”

“Finish paying off my car,” Katelyn laughed. “You?” she grabbed her pictures and the card off the table.

“Student loans,” Amanda giggled. “I might put a small dent in them.”

“If we play this right Manda, you won't have to worry about those student loans,” Katelyn stated as they turned to leave the office themselves, leaving everyone else to bitch and moan amongst themselves.

“Oh, just a sec,” Katelyn said, suddenly pivoting to run and catch up to Drew. Luckily she was wearing flats. Actually as a photographer primarily, she wore flats or even sneakers a lot. Leave it to the models to wear heels, she’d always say.

Drew stopped, letting Katelyn catch up to him. “What’s up?” he asked.

“I just remembered something important that’s not in the photos,” Katelyn said. “This kid’s got tattoos all over her back. You can’t see them in the photos obviously, but when she wears a tank top they’re pretty visible.”

“Anything tasteless?” Drew asked honestly.

“Nope,” Katelyn answered. “They’re 100% traditional Celtic tattoos, some clan markers, a trinity knot, that sort of thing.”

“Oh,” Drew laughed, “Well that’s fine. We can cover them with makeup if the clients take issue, but I think that’s going to be part of her mystique.”

“Oi shite stain!” a man dressed in a police uniform yelled after a figure running down the road, “I catch you, I’m ganna beat the crap outta ya.”

“Ya couldn’t catch a cold!” the figure laughed, waving the five pound note freshly nicked from the policeman’s pocket as it sprinted down an alley.

“Piss off!” The man stopped, running out of breath. At least he seemed to be out of breath. He recovered awfully quickly, making a big show of turning around and giving up the chase. “Fuckin bloody streat waifs.”

“You got bollocks kid,” a deep voice in the alleyway she had just sprinted into said with a laugh. “Nicking a John Hop.” He seemed to be some kind of warehouse worker, hiding from work to enjoy a quick smoke, but as Sophie well knew, looks were deceiving.

“Fat oaf ran me off from earning anything legit so I had to take his wallet into my own hands,” Sophie laughed. “All the bladie had was a five pounder.”

“Can’t argue with that logic,” he said, laughing again as he reached into his pocket. “Here, buy yourself a decent lunch on ole Jim, for the floor show,” he said, handing her a 10 pound note. The man was the owner of the pub, whom had just stepped out back to have a smoke but got a really good show instead. “I’d offer ya a drink, but, well,” he said jokingly.

“Na, thanks for the tenner though,” Sophie said, pocketing it as she checked to see if the coast was clear yet. She looked back. “It’s a snowball’s chance in Hell I know, but, you wouldn’t have heard from Lia?”

“Na, sorry,” Jim said as he shook his head. “But as always my young lass, I shall keep an ear to the ground.”

“Thanks,” she said, leaving it at that as she casually slipped out of the alleyway. She didn’t mind being called ‘young lass’ or ‘miss’, or even shit stain. It was no worse than what her dad had called her. If people thought her a girl, that just made it easier to hustle and play the starving kid angle.

She was starving, and a kid, after all, and a girl as far as she was concerned, even if her estranged father saw it differently. Granted, 13 was technically a teenager. She was even in what America called high school except she wasn't. She had dropped school to find her mum.

She wasn’t having much luck so far. She tried busking with a little black Clarke tin whistle which worked fine until the owner of wherever she was standing outside decided to complain, or someone demanded to see her permits, which of course she couldn’t afford. There were a few places in the town center that didn’t mind, like Jim, and the flower shop. They seemed to really benefit from it.

Tourists loved it too. That was what they came to see - a street rat on a corner, piping away on a tin whistle. Sometimes she’d slip right in and join a session in progress, and get a share of the take, too. Most of the street kids took care of each other here.

It was just her luck that the McAllister sisters were getting ready to play at the flower shop too, Ellen with her old, beat up fiddle and Casidhe with her guitar. The girls were not homeless, but they liked to hang out with the homeless and help them earn a few quid.

“Sophie!” Casidhe yelled as she saw the girl, waving her over. “C’mon, let’s give these tourists a real show hey?”

“Sophie you got yer flute?” Ellen grinned.

Sophie produced the 12 inch long whistle from her back pocket and gave it an artful twirl, grinning. “I never go anywhere without it.”

“Oi oi” Cassidhe called out to the crowd, “Sophie Dee here, she comes from a long line of whistle players, and foot stompers. She’s a wee bit down on her luck right now, but if y’all give a listen she’ll melt your heart right into yer shoes.”

Ellen leaned closer to the two. “We’ll warm ‘em up with Danny Boy. They love that shite.”

“Americans eat it up.” Sophie laughed twirlin her tin whistle, and tapping her foot as Ellen fingerpicked the intro. The whistle and the violin blended surprisingly well, harmonizing and drawing even more of a crowd as they played. Sophie even danced for them.

More than a few tourists had their cell phones out recording the show, or snapping pictures, but one, Sophie couldn’t help noticing, had a very expensive looking DSLR camera. She noticed because she had seen the same model camera once before, about three weeks prior. The woman had given her a whole twenty quid for a drawing she had done. Sophie was of many talents you had to be to make money on the streets.

Either you had to have talents or a body to sell. She had both, but she wasn’t willing to sell her body. There were enough perverts looking for what she could offer, but she wasn’t that desperate. She always found a way, especially thanks to help from friends like Ellen and Casidhe, who always had some extra food or a few pounds to offer.

The woman with the camera handed another woman a big wad of cash, and nodded to her, she approached the musicians and spoke to Casidhe, “Which tip jars for the blue eyed girl?”

“Any,” Casidhe laughed. “We’re helping our friend today, so it all goes to ‘er.” Amanda nodded and dropped 5,000 pounds into the tip jar and walked back to Katelyn. A few onlookers close enough to see went a little wide-eyed and whispered among themselves. Casidhe, Ellen, and Sophie hadn’t seemed to notice. They were lost in the music, and in entertaining the tourists.

The two waited through the entire show, all the crowds that came and went, all the tips the girls made, that 5k was just a small drop in the ice burgh it was meant to get Sophie’s attention and open her up to talking to them.

“Bloody hell,” Casidhe said, as they began to pack it in and empty the tip jars into a small sack for Sophie to take with her. “Maybe we should ought to do this for a living,” she laughed. “Damn Sophie the luck of the leprechauns are with ya today.” She showed her the big fat stack of bills.

Sophie stared at the stack. It was rubber banded neatly together which meant someone had done it intentionally. She actually poked at it a few times, not sure if it was real. “... What in the fookin’ bloody hell?” she said finally. There was a note inside that read, ‘When your done, and want to talk meet us at Delaney's restaurant.’

“May be some gentleman caller looking for a really good time,” Ellen teased her and giggled. “I didn’t see who put it in the jar, I’m afraid.”

Casidhe spoke, “I think it was that short blonde american woman: the one that was with the Irish girl and the expensive camera.”

“Oh,” Sophie said, “The one with the Irish photographer with the fancy camera! I know her!” she brightened. “Well I mean, I sorta know her.” She looked down. “But I canna go to that fancy pants restaurant looking like this. They’d throw me out on my arse at the door.”

“You got cash. Go rent a room take a shower and get new duds,” Casidhe laughed.

“I’m afraid I’ll be arrested as a bank robber,” Sophie said. “Could I get you two to pick something up for me and maybe lemme shower at your place? I’ll pay for it, and you two are so gettin’ a cut of this payday,” she laughed.

“Okay,” Ellen said, “No pay for the shower, but ya gotta pay fer your own duds.”

“Thanks guys. You always been good to me. I really do wanna pay you back.”

“Jus get famous, an off the streets that’s payment enuf.” Casidhe said. “C’man, I’ll take ya back to our flat while Ellen finds you something nice to wear.”

Sophie had been there before, when the weather gets too cold the girls usually took her in. Their mother watched her like a hawk the first time, and after that, welcomed her like a third daughter, but Sophie didn’t like to overstay her welcome anywhere, so she only crashed on the McAllisters out of absolute necessity.

“Oi is that the lil songbird I hear?” the woman asked as Sophie and Casidhe entered the house.

“Hi Mrs. McAllister,” Sophie said brightly.

“Bloody hell girl, how many times do I have to tell you to call me mum,” she teased and hugged Sophie even if she did smell.

“Always one more time, Mrs. McAllister,” Sophie giggled. “My pa was a creeper, but he gave me manors.”

“Some photographer lady wants to meet her at Delaney's’,” Casidhe giggled. “So Ellen’s out buyin’ her some new clothes with the money they put in her tip jar.”

“Aye,” Sophie said, “I can finally pay you back all those nights you let me stay here,” she laughed.

“Nonsense.” Mrs. McAllister stated, “Yer family girl. You’re belfast blood are ya not?”

“Yessum,” Sophie said. There was no denying it. The accent gave it away from the first day.

Mrs. McAllister said brightly, “Ah, you know before the girls were born and Jack died, we used to live in Belfast.”

“Oh?” Sophie asked, she had heard the story a bunch of times, but she didn’t mind.

“Oh aye. Jack was a police officer, not a fat bobby mind you, a rifle carrying Northern Irish policeman,” she laughed. “Belfast just didn’t feel like home anymore after losing him. But you know that story,” she teased giving Sophie a slight smack on the bum.

“By heart,” Casidhe giggled.

“Go take yer bath girl.” Mrs. McAllister said. “Since yer meetin at the restaurant I won't be offering you any food you hear, you lil scallop.” She grinned. “Not till this evening anyway. We’re having my famous meatloaf.”

“Damn. I won't be missing that, I promise.” Sophie said brightly.

“And use the good soap this time,” Casidhe called after her, giggling.

“That her?” Amanda pointed to the young lady coming through the door. She was wearing a white top with a slight scoop neck, an open sweater, and a black skirt, and carrying a small handbag. None of it looked too terribly expensive, but she almost didn’t look like the same girl.

“Aye that’s her,” Katelyn grinned, waiting for the Maitre D to show her to their table. “Glad you could make it,” she said warmly.

“It’s just lucky Casidhe recognized you,” Sophie laughed. “Ellen thought some gent was looking to have a good time.”

“Hard to miss in the crowd.” Katelyn laughed. “Hungry?”

“A little,” Sophie lied. She hadn’t eaten since early in the morning, and that was a stale donut.

“Order anything you want.” Katelyn handed Sophie a menu. Sophie eyed her suspiciously. “Seriously,” she said, trying not to laugh.

“Seriously.” Amanda nodded. “Even that $140 item if it hits you.” She winked.

“Es...car...got...” she squinted, as if it would help her figure out what it was supposed to be. “Oh no um Fish and chips will be good.” she said. “And a Cherry Pepsi.”

Katelyn said, “Battered fish, the best, and a big order of wedged spuds, and a big cask of Cherry Pepsi.” she told a waiter.

“Of course ma’am,” the waiter said professionally and quickly stepped away. The two didn’t start off with any kind of business yet. They wanted Sophie to eat first.

“So...” Sophie said, “I... guess you really liked the show?”

“It was good. You’re a good dancer.” Amanda said.

“I had a few good teachers,” Sophie said, trying not to giggle. She half expected the fish to come back half cooked or looking back at her. She knew rich people ate some weird stuff, but to her great relief it was proper fish and chips, breaded white fish that smelled divine and a heaping of potato wedges to go with it. “Can I get some Ranch dressing to dip em in?”

The pair watched Sophie eat as they ate as well. “Enjoy yourself?” Katelyn said as the girl finished everything on her plate. Sophie didn’t leave a single crumb on it at all, like it was the first meal she’d eaten in years.

“Not bad,” Sophie said, trying to downplay it, taking a sip of her soda. She let out a large, unladylike burp. “Excuse me,” she said surprisingly politely. “Okay I know you two didn’t come all the way to ireland to buy me food and put 5,000 pounds in my tip jar. My drawing wasn’t that good,” she giggled.

“No, you got me there.” Katelyn said “We’re here to offer you a job.”

Sophie stopped, mid-drink, and slowly put her glass down. “Listen, you’re both very lovely, and I’m honored, but not interested.”

“You haven't heard us out.” Amanda said, “We’re willing to offer you this much.” she slid a piece of paper over to Sophie with a large sum of money,

“Don’t need to,” Sophie said. “I’m not interested in that kind of...” she stopped, eyeing the number written on the piece of paper, “... work.”

Katelyn burst out laughing. “Oh God,” she said. “It’s not that kind of job! We’re talent scouts for WP Modeling Agency back in America.”

Sophie’s cheeks turned from milky pale to rosy red, and she started laughing. “Oh... Oh God...” she giggled. “I’m so sorry. But I can’t model.”

“How about this much?” Amanda slide another piece of paper over to Sophie.

“... Yer both bloody daft,” Sophie said as she shook her head. “Mad as a nicked John Hop.”

“Show her the final bid.” Katelyn said at Amanda.

“I don’t think my heart could take it,” Sophie protested as Amanda wrote down some numbers and slid it across.

“That’s per photo shoot.” Katelyn stated.

Sophie stared at them, those intense blue eyes burning a hole right through their souls. “I’ll make ya a counter offer,” she said, reaching across the table to snag Amanda’s pen. She circled the second offer. “Take this number,” she said, and circled the final bid, “Subtract it from this one. You pay me that one, and set up a charity for homeless kids wi’the rest, and I’m all yours.”

Amanda filed in the number in the contract, wrote some things down on it, “You got a parent or guardian?”

“Somewhere,” Sophie snorted. “My da’s prolly drunk off his arse in Belfast, God fuck his child-beating arse. My Mum... Been looking for her. No luck yet,” she sighed.

“Tell you what, take this.” she slid a base contract over to Sophie, “Go find a solicitor, verify it, and Katelyn and I will work out the guardian thing at least temporarily.”

“I got a friend I can ask,” Sophie said. “I’ll see what she says.”

“When you’re done then, meet us at Trinity Hotel. Room 2016.” She reached into her messenger bag and slid a copy of the photos of Sophie over to her. “Consider the meal and the 5k an advance for these. You are an incredibly beautiful young lady, and I want to show the world.”

Sophie blinked. She stared at Katelyn and Amanda. “You... really think I’m beautiful?” she asked cautiously.

“Our boss,” Katelyn stated, “Drew Mallory, only hands this out.” she pulled out the platinum credit card handing it to the waiter who came with the bill, “To very few people.”

Sophie looked sheepish for a moment. She giggled at something. “Glad I didn’t nick your wallet last time we met, now.”

“I didn’t have a wallet on me.” Katelyn winked, “Not my first rodeo. My gran is alive and well down in Cork you know.”

“Cork eh?” Sophie giggled, “Now I wish I’d nicked your wallet.” she teased. “Okay I’ll go have my friend look at this and see what’s what.” She took the papers and took off. She stopped, came back, finished her Cherry Pepsi, refilled it, finished that, and then left.