W took the lead. Considering its long history, the magazine had its own readers, to whom it would send the latest issues before their formal release.
Long Island was beautiful in the morning. There were trees and greenbelts along the clean paths, and the flower beds were full of a poetic vibe.
A postman in a white cap was riding along the road. The day’s newspapers and magazines were on the shelf behind him.
The young man was familiar with the streets in the area. He could have ridden all over that neighbourhood with his eyes closed.
A tiny roll of a magazine flew over the fence of a garden and toward the flowering shrubs.
Before the roll could hit the ground, a smiling Labrador with tiny cute eyes rushed out like the wind, jumped high into the sky and caught the magazine in its mouth.
"Well done, Mussolini!" The boy waved at the dog and then went along his way.
There were six magazines left.
Shaking its thin tail, Mussolini went through a small door in the fence and reached its masters’ table. It presented the magazine like a kid presenting a piece of treasure.
"Lily, your magazine." The man took his newspaper and handed the finely-printed fashion magazine to his wife, who was frying eggs.
"Oh, thank you..." A screen was between the young couple again, in the form of the newspaper and the magazine.
The magazine, which smelled slightly of orchids, was opened. The young housewife preferred VOGUE over W. The male models in the inner pages were a substitute for her boring marriage.
There was an Asian model on the full page. He was sitting beside a white curtain in a thin silk shirt, looking out of the window blankly. He seemed barely awake, pure and helpless.
Even though her mouth was parched and her tongue scorched, the woman took a large bite out of her toast.
"George..."
"Yes?" the man
man behind the newspaper replied with a single word.
"I’ll go downtown with you today."
"What for?" The man put down his newspaper and looked at his wife in confusion. They had had no effective communication in a long time.
The tame young girl never went out so early in the morning.
A pair of fair feet without slippers were rubbing up and down against his legs like a breeze. He could feel the warmth even through his pants.
"I want to buy Halloween candy and a perfume from the New York shopping mall. This one. The Armani."
On the poster, Qin Guan and Raquel were looking at each other emotionally. The green bottle looked royal and elegant against the black background.
"It's said that this perfume is the essence of life and the lure of forbidden love... We could... Tonight... Yes?"
The rising last syllable, which was uttered with a nasal sound, as well as her toes on his thighs, made the calm surgeon
calm surgeon excited.
"You are the boss..."
The new Asian face reached countless American families. The magazines were also selling like hot bread on different newsstands. Rushed customers threw their change into the box out of habit, barely catching a glimpse of the cover.
That one glance delayed some of them though.
"A classified fashion magazine? Okay, one more."
"Hey, sir. I want the magazine with the vampire!"
Among all the magazines with top models and Hollywood stars on their covers, people seldom saw such a rat-f*ck photo.
Thanks to Halloween festivities, the customers, most of whom were office workers, had suddenly changed.
Wearing dark eye makeup and swaying metal chains, a group of hippies went up to the stand for a pack of chewing gum. They looked almost like drug addicts.
"Wow! That’s so cool!"
On the cover, Qin Guan was roaring at the setting sun, cold light glittering on his sharp teeth. The dark castle in the background, which seemed like it belonged in a Hitchcock in a Hitchcock movie, implied his true identity.
The scarlet tears, sunshine and embroidery on his chest added a bloodthirsty feeling to the picture of Dracula.
"Dude, look! He must be one of us!"
The weird guys left, leaving an empty shelf behind them.
T and V ran a gay bar together, so they would often buy some fashion magazines with male models to enrich their collection.
Because of V’s high taste, the owners of all the gay bars along the street entrusted him with purchasing the magazines.
In most gay bars, the patrons were silent, with the exception of the macho man-show bars.
V got up early that morning and rushed to a stand in his blue apron. "30 copies of W, thanks."
"I only have 25 at hand."
"Okay, I’ll take them all."
"No problem."
He turned the day’s bestseller, VOGUE, open. "I also want 10 copies of VOGUE. Thanks."
They were all for his friends’ bars. To his surprise, he saw the same model in both magazines.